Enchanters & Diviners
by ArumAnimus
Summary: She has survived her freshman year. It is now summer vacation, time for some well-deserved rest. At this point, Lumina has finally chosen to leave her abusive family behind, and to everyone's shock- pursue her accidental husband! But, there remains unfinished business to attend to: A critical complication to the marriage contract. How could that one detail be overlooked?
1. Chapter 1

I approach the bus stop. A soft wind has picked up, and Russet stuffs emself back into my bag to avoid detection. I stand under a large tree, which provides much-needed shade from the summer heat. Awaiting the bus to take me to the airport, I peek back up at the mountain that I just hiked down, smiling fondly at the small, huddled white buildings that sit atop its peak. _I wonder if he misses me already. _

The bus finally arrives and I take my seat in the back, gazing out the window to watch Iris Academy shrink farther and farther away until it's completely out of sight.

We make it to the airport and Russet sneaks under my shirt, then when I receive the pat down e teleports away from spot to spot, clinging onto me. It tickles, but the security guard only smiles at my giggling, unaware.

We board the plane without a hitch, and once the plane lifts off, to my delight I find that no one is seated next to me. I sit my bag beside me and prop it up so that Russet can peak out of the plane window without being seen.

"I've never flown before."

"You'll enjoy it, if you're not afraid of heights." I inform.

"By the gods! Look how high up we are! And this is how the mundane regularly travel?"

I chuckle. "It's pretty impressive isn't it? All done without magick." We admire the bright sky, and Russets hops with excitement as we tear through the clouds.

_Funny to think that e's an old man, in actuality. But I suppose when one is sexless and has a life-expectancy spanning for centuries, there is no standard form of behavior. I mean, e looks like a stuffed animal- makes sense e would be so... cute._

"Will Verwildert be waiting there for us?" E asks.

"Yes, he's expecting us, so he'll already be there when we arrive."

E chirps softly. "Oh, we have so much catching up to do. I look forward to exploring your home as well."

I smile sheepishly. "It's his home to be honest. I was just lucky enough to be welcomed in. Papa will make sure you'll feel right at home yourself, and this time you can try _my_ cooking."

"Ooh. I'm looking forward to that! Be sure to prepare plenty of potatoes. They're my favorite!"

I cannot help myself when I snicker at the hilarious coincidence. _Hahahaha! Russet potato!_

When e finally falls asleep, I take the chance to start writing my letter to the professor. I twirl the pen around and resist the urge to tap it against the notebook, otherwise Russet will wake up and I'll lose my brief period of privacy. _What to write? What to write?_

_I can't think of anything!_

_Maybe I'm being silly. I haven't even been away a day yet and I'm so eager to send him a letter._ A blush creeps over me. _I should let some time pass. In fact, I should wait until he writes to me first._ I close the notebook and begin snacking on my peanut butter and banana sandwich.

Still I find myself distracted._ Lumie, you need to calm down._ I touch my cheek. _He kissed me._ Then my lips. _He actually kissed me._

Then I panic.

_Does that mean we're making a go of this marriage thing?_ I twitch. _Woah! Are we?! I hadn't even thought of that. I was so wrapped up in the moment, I didn't bring it up. Does this mean he's my boyfriend now? D-do I have a… Boyfriend?_ I shift around, hoping no one else is noticing my internal turmoil._ But I don't think the professor would appreciate being referred to as "boyfriend". It'd probably make him gag. But, he is my "husband". Would he mind it if I called him out on that? ...Ugh, actually that's a bad idea. _

_What are we anyway?_

_ Lovers? _

_No. Not really. I'm not exactly '"feeling the love"._

_But we're together. _

_But we're not 'dating', per say._

_But we're married..._

_ He's definitely more than just a crush now- our feelings are out in the open. Whatever they are... _

_I'm in a relationship with my professor! _

_Not a contract, not a prison, but a young, fragile relationship. I mean it **is** a contract, and it **kinda does** act like a metaphorical prison._

_Stop, Lumie. Stop. You're thinking way too much into this. Just relax. Enjoy the ride. Eat your sandwich, and maybe you should take a nap like Russet._

I don't, I drift off here and there, but I can't get my mind off of Hieronymous. _Huh. When did I start referring to him by name? Hieronymous… I like his name. And what was his father's name. Aloysius? I wonder what they mean._ _Maybe it would impress him if I found out._ I make a mental note to do just that.

_Lumie get a hold of yourself! Do NOT become a boy-obsessed, love-struck, sappy teenager._

_ Er. Well. He's no "boy". That's for sure. Mmm. _

_No! No! Do not think about him! Even if he is refined, intellectual, confident, commanding, and mysterious… _

_Dammit. Ginia was right. I "totally have the hots for him". _

_Get him out of your head. Get him out of your head. Get him out of your head! He's not even here. Do not become the clingy-girlfriend! _

_But no, wait. I'm not his girlfriend, isn't that what I was debating about earlier?_

_And he's most certainly not my boyfriend, if that's the case._

_Man-friend?_

I breathe out, trying to find my zen. _It's alright to be excited. It's okay to be nervous too. This is all new to you, Lumie. It's only natural that you'd freak out and gush a little bit. __Just. Don't. Be. A moron._

_He doesn't have to be all you think about. There are tons of other things to be thinking about!_

_ …Oh, there's no helping me. Is there?_

Agitated, and embarrassed, I pull out a puzzle book full of crosswords, word searches, and riddles. _That should occupy me for the rest of the flight._

Three more hours later, and we make it back to New York. It's a struggle to get down the stairs and find my suitcase because the airport is packed. _How could I forget? It's summer. TOURIST SEASON. That means it's going to be loud and hot, and all the good places to go are going to be crowded._

_…I **am** becoming bitter before my time._

I'm pushing my way through the crowd, hugging my backpack, poor Russet is clinging onto me for dear life. I turn this way and that. _Where is he? He should be here by now. I wish I had a cell phone._

"Missy!"

I gasp in happiness. "Papa?"

I see a long arm waving over the throngs of people. "Over here!" I follow the German accent to my beloved grandfather.

He squeezes me, and I have to remind him that Russet is in my bag, and not to crush em. " I missed you so much."

"I missed you too. Velcome back!" He leads us away and outside the airport we wait for a cab.

Russet whispers from my bag. "Pssst! Verwildert!"

Papa turns around in surprise, recognition in his face. He whispers back. "Russet? Vhy hello zere! Goot to see you. You actually came. How vas zee ride?" Papa offers his finger and Russet shakes it heartily.

"Smooth as cream, thanks to Lumie here." Russet has to stuff emself back in my bag as the cab strolls up. We enter, and Papa sits in the back with us.

I'm confused. "We're not going home yet, Papa?"

"Not yet. I vant to take you both out to eat first."

I blink. "The both of us? Are we going somewhere special?" I half whisper- half giggle.

Papa winks. "Indeed vee are. Now zat you're old enough and properly registered, vee can finally start havink some _enchanted fun._"

We exit the cabby and after paying the fee, Papa takes my suitcase and rolls up to a shopping strip a little ways from the city's most famous park. We pass many restaurants and make our way up beside a diner. But we don't enter the diner. Instead, we stand adjacent to it, facing its back wall.

_Uhhhhh._

Papa taps his cane on the cement in a numerical pattern and the wall shimmers to reveal a hidden door. "Papa? How do the mundane not see us?" I look behind us. People are just walking by, not even noticing the magick being performed in broad daylight.

Papa opens the door open for us. "A very advanced combination of spells, beyond your textbooks Missy. Zis is government magick. No one non-magickal can so much a look at zis spot- in fact vee currently do not exist."

_I figured as much, so it seems that there are secret spots stashed all over the world for us wizard-folk to hide in. A part of me thought we lived everyday lives just like the mundane and that it was up to us to keep ourselves hidden._

_ There's no way I'd be able to do magick like this. Despite my large arsenal of spells, if I tried to hide, people would **see me** disappear first, **then** I would vanish. But here we are out in the open and no one even knows! I can't even grasp how they managed to pull that off in one simultaneous swoop._

Papa leads us inside and I'm pulled from my thoughts to marvel at the sight in front of me.

The walls are bright yellows, greens and blues with tiny zig-zagged prints on the wallpaper. The floors are a sandy tile, savory scents waft through the air, reminding me of barbecue. The entire place is happily lit with bright, warm lights. I notice the many, many paintings dotting the walls, but there's something a little more to them…

_They're moving! They're not paintings- they're portals! That one over there is depicting a boat at sea that has bobbing waves and soaring seagulls. I can even hear them calling, and the waves crashing. This one over here depicts a majestic forest. _I can hear the sounds of hidden wildlife, the rustling of leaves, and the trees sway in the passing breeze while a red bird hops to and fro from branch to branch. A deer pops into view, to nibble on some grass._ Oh, and this one I can actually smell, because I'm close enough. It's raining. _The pitter patter of heavy rain against a scenic road lulls my ears. I can smell the fresh air, the water, the damp soil. There are a few rumblings of thunder.

_But the décor isn't all there is to this place, our small group is the most human-looking here._

That man has one rather large, sharp fang protruding from his closed mouth. He also has small horns on his head and long, pointed ears, with clay-colored skin that is pigmented with blackish-brown stripes. He's sitting amidst a group of his own kind, all different shades of clay with variants to their horn and fang sizes. Some are striped, some speckled, some plain.

I see a woman with feathers behind her ears and bird wings. She's thin, with a long, pointed nose, she's also got piercing eyes. Her hair is short and spikey, it curves delicately upward with golden highlights. She's quite the looker.

Sitting opposite her is another gorgeous woman. Long, silky black hair that trails down to the floor, bright green eyes with slits for pupils and a thin, short nose, she has a sharp bone structure. The both of them have long nails, but I'm going to assume those are claws. I realize when I pass her, she has a snake tail for her bottom half instead of legs.

Russet emerges from my bag to sit atop my shoulder, looking rather comfortable now that e is free to be out in the open. Papa directs us further in and I pass more people and paintings- though I don't really know what they are actually called. I have to duck to avoid a floating tray of food over my head. Then I have to lift my foot to avoid squashing a family of pygmies.

The food looks normal enough, but one has to scrutinize the details to tell the difference.

For one instance, that salad has leaves bigger than my face. The fruit on that platter is glowing. That plate of food over there has a fish I've never seen before with spikes on its skin and sharp teeth. I watch as a waiter comes in with a butcher's knife to chop off the head, which the customer mentioned contains a venom that e is not immune to. _Yikes! What animal did that hunk of meat come from?! It's humongous -almost as big as the table- and it's still on the bone!_

Papa snags us a small booth at the far end of the place, only two or three tables are adjacent to us. That, and they're not too close to be within hearing range. A basket of bread is set on our table, which Russet happily partakes in. I look at the painting hanging on the wall to my left. It's an expansive field of rolling hills, covered in flowers. The sky is cloudless and the sun is bright, there is a slow breeze that lifts the floral perfume into the air and to my nostrils.

"I can see you're impressed. And you schould be. Hehe. Zis is Zee Compass Crossvays."

"Compass Crossways?" I repeat.

"Aye. It's one of zee few restaurants zat uses so much magick. Aside from zee Oservorld. I know every goot place to eat in zee city. But zis, is on zee favorites list of mine."

I'm a little lost.

"It's called zat because zis place offers a range of food from all over zee vorld. Includink zee Oservorld."

I gasp.

He chuckles. "It's a place vere zee rich and poor can dine alike. Zee prices range from very cheap to absurdly expensive. Your bill of course, is determined by how exotic you prefer your meals. I know you've been gawkink at zee paintings, vell. Zey aren't just for looks. Zey are more like dimensional mirrors zan artvork. Vere you are seated vill determine vat menu is offered to you. And zat menu is determined by vat paintink you are seated vith. See ours?" He motions his hand to the field of flowers and hills.

"You're a vegetarian. So I sought zis may be zee best. Plenty of Oservorld herbs and fruits you haven't tried yet, I'm sure. But notink dangerous for you to try, either. Maybe funny-tastink, but not deadly. And if you don't feel like beink adventurous, you can alvays settle for a salad or soup of some kind. And zee food is seasonal here as vell. So if you're goink to order sometink mundane, it'll be from a selection of sommer vegetables I'm certain. Zey change zee general décor every season too, if I'm not mistaken. Zat explains vhy it looks like a Hawaiian hut since zee last time I've been here."

_Aw. He thought this all out for me? _"This is awesome! Thank you, thank you,_ thank you!_" I say happily and excitedly.

Papa looks proud of himself.

"Well, Verwildert, shall we pick up where we left off?" Russet offers.

"Ah. Yes. Vee schould." He agrees.

Russet's ears perk up. "Oh. You know what, we should include Lumie in this conversation, I'm sure she wants to know as much as I."

"Know what?"

"Ve'll do zat." Papa decides.

The three of us decide to shift and fidget and make ourselves comfortable. Papa speaks first. "I've known you for a goot length of time now. But, because of your predicament, you haven't been able to explore my past as much as I've explored yours."

I stiffen. _He's right. I know near nothing about his origins. His magickal ones anyway._

"You said you hail from a large farm in Germany, Verwildert?"

He does, I at least know that.

"Aye, I do. I vasn't alvays rich, you schould know. I vas taught zee value of hard vork! I grew up in zee country. I lived vith my Mama and Papa, and my brothers. I'm zee middle child of fünf children."

Russet interrupts. "What does 'fünf' mean?"

Papa raises an eyebrow at me expectantly.

"Oh. Yes. 'Fünf' is 'five' in German. Um. Let me tell you the numbers from one to ten. Papa doesn't always count in English." He nods, depicting a face that says "Go on." I clear my throat, ready to alliterate, and motion the numbers with my fingers as I count in German. "Ahem! Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht, neun, zehn."

Russet squints and nods, then resumes eating es bread.

"And zee numbers from elf to zwanzig?" Papa challenges.

Russet sits up straight, ready to learn. I use both of my hands to shape out the numbers to em. "Elf, zwölf, dreizehn, vierzehn, fünfzehn, sechzehn, siebzehn, achtzehn, neunzehn, zwanzig." _Pfft, this is baby stuff, I don't why he would test me other than to show off._

Papa smiles and goes back to sitting in a relaxed manner, his "tutor mode" presumably passed.

"What else should I know?" Russet asks.

Papa again, looks to me, resuming "tutor mode".

_Darn it, now I've got to make sure I don't mess up._ "Well, he speaks fluent English Russet, it's just that his accent can get pretty thick. Once in a while he might break out into full-blown German, but that's usually when he's engaging in a private conversation with me. So I don't think you need to worry about anything else."

"Well that's no fair, I at least want to be able to get the gist of what you two would be talking about."

I don't even have to look at Papa to know what he expects of me already. He's probably eager to show off his star-student.

Russet scooches closer to me, awaiting my response.

_Okay, better teach him the **absolute basics** then, because I don't plan on spending my entire summer teaching a brownie how to speak German._

"From the top then:

Sunday-Sonntag, Monday-Montag, Tuesday-Dienstag, Wednesday-Mittwoch, Thursday-Donnerstag, Friday-Freitag, and Saturday-Samstag."

Russet repeats the numbers from one to ten, and then the days of the week.

"Now, for the months of the year:

January-Januar, February-Februar, March-März, April-is the same. May-Mai, June-Juni, July-Juli, August- is also the same. So is September. October-Oktober, November-is... November. Lastly, December-Dezember."

Russet needs to go through the months two more times before getting it memorized.

"Last lesson, Russet." I say.

I clear my throat. "New Years- Silvester, Valentine's Day- Valentistag, Halloween- Allerheiligen, Thanksgiving- Danksagung, Yuletide-Weihnachtszeit. Those are the holidays we celebrate in this family, anyway. Neither of us are the religious type. But if you have any more, I could translate for you. Oh, I forgot! Birthday- Geburtstag, and Anniversary-Jahrestag."

Papa hums in approval.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes four tries for Russet to get the pronunciation right, but e finally does. E pesters me to teach em more words, so I settle for a few choice phrases like "Hello", "Goodbye", "I am hungry", etc.

A waitress offers us our menus. I look down at mine, food I recognize is in English, but I really want to try something from the Otherworld. I ask Papa to translate the menu for me, but instead he offers up another idea.

"Missy, you know zee Communication spell don't you?"

"Yes. But I've only used it a handful of times, I haven't really needed it."

"Try to cast it on yourself and see if you can translate zese Oservorld letters."

"Um-"

"No one vill notice Missy." He says encouragingly.

My heart picks up a few paces when I realize Papa may know more about me than I thought. So I look around, take a breath and focus. My eyes shine for a moment and my tongue gets this tingling feeling, then I start to see the foreign symbols on the menu warp into readable English. I'm only able to trace a few choice words.

"Vat do you see?" Papa asks.

I shake my head in disappointment. "Only the root words. A few alphabets they all have in common, the articles 'the', 'is' 'in' and 'it'. But nothing descriptive. No adjectives, no nouns." I frown.

Papa grunts, but in an endearing way. "That's not bad at all Missy. I honestly didn't sink you vould see anytink. Communication is a tricky spell. It allows zee caster to speak in tongues, but such tongues are limited to zee caster's own, individual experience."

"Huh?" I respond dumbly.

"I think I can explain it to her." Russet offers. "You are human. Not only that, but you are wildseed. The Communication spell works differently for everyone. Since you are human, it would allow you to easily translate any other human language into your native tongue. But for those that are nativeseed human, meaning they are mixed with other races, it would also allow them to speak the other tongues of their bloodline."

_ What the?! And he taught me German the hard way!_

Papa wags his finger. "Don't look at me like zat. You're smart Missy. You schould know it's just as important to know zee tongues by heart, as much as by magick. It'll come in handy schould you find yourself in a situation vere you can't cast."

I pout, but he's right.

Papa clears his throat. "You vould have to spend some time in zee Oservorld to pick up oser languages not of your bloodline. Breathe in zee air, drink zee vater, eat zee food, and congregate vith oser races to learn seir tongues. Time spent in zee Oservorld is also magick asorbed. Magick you could take hold of by tappink into zee mainstream of mana flow."

I think I'm beginning to understand it now. "It's a cultural thing. It takes time."

I tell Papa what I would like to try, and he orders me a broth of noodles and seasonal vegetables, making sure to mention I'm vegetarian and not to use animal stock, then a small side bowl of Otherworld berries. Russet orders a baked potato with herbs, salt, and butter. Papa gets himself roasted pheasant with wild rice, smothered in a mulberry-wine sauce. As for our drinks, Russet simply orders a black, Irish tea, with a little bit of honey, and Papa orders his signature coffee. I get a green-tea, lemonade.

"May I have one of your lemons, Lumie?" Russets asks, stirring es tea with both hands on the spoon, as if the teacup were a cauldron.

_They don't have brownie-sized cups here? _

"Verwildert what else are you? Besides human."

He swallows a gulp of his coffee and wipes his mouth. "Ah. Orc."

Papa has mentioned it once or twice, I always knew he wasn't fully-human, but I want to know exactly what an "Orc" is.

He's speaking more to me now. "I know vat you're sinkink. And you are correct. Orcs are part of zee gremlin family. Every race has a genus. Beinks like Russet, are part of zee fae family. Vich is zee largest and most complex family tree in all of magick-kind. Zere is a hierarchy to every family tree, vith zee beasts on zee bottom and zee sentient on top. In my genus, orcs are zee most humanesque, folloved by ogres, trolls, zen goblins. I believe vee passed a group of orcs on our vay here."

_Those horned, fanged, striped guys?_

Papa hums. "In my genus, vee have a predominantly male population. A lot of us interbreed. I get my orc blood from my Papa's side. Orc females are far and few in between. But believe you, me, zey are beautiful. Savage, but beautiful. Hehe. You have heard of zee Amazon vomen."

_"The Amazons were orcs?!"_ I smile in disbelief.

"Indeed Missy. Zee most famous of orcs vere in fact, female. Zee Amazons vere a group of orc females zat banded togeser, stranded on an island vith zee absence of any males to keep seir population goink. And yes, zey vere just as strong and tall as zee legends depict. Seir 'tribal markinks' vere in fact, seir skin pigments, not tattoos or var-paint at all. And orc females usually have blunted or lack horns. And even fewer have fangs zat breach seir lips. So you can see vhy zey vere mistaken for giant, human vomen."

"_Wow…_"

Russet speaks up. "You have a proud heritage, Verwildert."

"I do. Orc men are known for beink excellent fighters, and fierce protectors. Vee each make a vow to defend our homes and families to zee death. And as our culture has it- an Orc man who cannot protect and provide is neither man nor Orc."

He closes his eyes and smiles softly. "I remember ven I vent on my pilgrimage. As all Orc men must... Zee rite of passage for a male is to in fact, go on a pilgrimage and brink back resources for zee tribe. Zee sons must surpass seir fathers vith seir spoils. And you must return heftier zan ven you left, or zey'll send you back! Hahaha!"

"Pilgrimage, Rite of Passage? And as for the females?"

"Zat, I do not know. Zee vomen keep it to zemselves, it is a mystery to us."

"That explains why you're so strong and tall, despite your age. That's no walking cane." Russet compliments.

Papa hollers. "I'd better be! Or my Papa vould be turnink in his grave! He died lookink no older zan middle-aged. And he lived for dreihundert jahre! You schould see my brothers, I'm zee scrawniest."

_300 years... So how old are you Papa? With those broad shoulders, straight back, and long legs?!_

"But let us, continue. I want to know about you." Russet pushes.

My bowl of berries arrive. Russet helps emself to a few, and Papa takes a handful. I just stare at them, not quite sure what to do. Papa and Russet laugh at my obvious alienation.

The red ones remind me of raspberries, except that they're spikey. The blue ones resemble blueberries, but they have green speckles on them. Russet squeezes one open, and the juice on the inside is also green. These look like strawberries, except they're pink, not red. And they're shaped like chili-peppers, but sport the many little seeds strawberries bear on their flesh. And these are blackberries? But the little lumps are rainbow-colored.

I try a "blueberry" first, it looking the safest to eat. It tastes just like a blueberry, except it's a little sourer. _Ah! Never mind, apparently it's a fruit that has the effect of pop rocks!_

I take a bite out of the "pepper-strawberry" only to find out that it's hollow on the inside. _It's a chewy, dry fruit, but has a floral taste and smell._

Now for the "rainbow-berries." It's especially juicy, and not as tough as normal blackberries. In fact, they melt away as soon as they hit my tongue. The flavor explosion is immense._ Sweet, sour, bitter, then tangy._

Finally a "spikey berry". I pick it up, it's not as sharp as it looks. In fact, it's seems almost fragile. I gingerly take a bite and… _It's crunchy! It doesn't hurt at all. It reminds me of the texture you get when you freeze-dry fruit._ The raspberry flavor is intensified, with a sweet finish. I like the spikey berries the best.

Russet and Papa giggle and snicker at the various faces I make while trying each piece of fruit. Eventually I pick up on their individual tastes and textures, and figure out how to eat them with no problem. I instinctively know now which ones to bite and chew, which to suck, and which to let melt on my tongue before swallowing, to not miss out on their effects.

Russet's potato arrives shorty, and e smothers it in extra salt and butter. I offer to cut the potato for em into small portions, and I evenly distribute the slathered butter so no part is left unseasoned.

_No tiny cups, no tiny cutlery. Didn't I walk over a group of pygmies earlier?_

Russet stabs the potato chunks with es fork, which is more like a pitchfork in comparison, and eats from the points.

_Okay, that is pretty adorable._

Papa's food arrives a few minutes later and we resume our conversation. "Anything more to say Verwildert?" Russet asks all ears.

Papa rubs his chin. "Hmmm. I suppose I could say a little more. But I don't only vant to be talkink about myself."

We nod.

"Anyvay, yes. I grew up on a large farm. Vee tended chickens, and cows, goats, sheep and I had my own horse. His name vas Wahnsinn."

_Ah yes, that crazy horse he aptly named "Insanity"._

"Von a goot many races vith him. But he vas no race horse, he vas zere to help out in zee fields. I considered him more of a pet, really. He bred a champion foal too. Vich vee sold to a racer. Wahnsinn vas vild, Papa sought he vas untamable, and vanted to put him down. But I insisted I could get srough to him. And zwei years later, after he broke my ribs and leg, vee finally got along. Almost killed me zat horse did!"

Russet and I exchange concerned glances.

"Mama and my younger brothers vorked zee fields. Vee grew a small portion of crop, but our dairy products vere our main source of income. Papa, my older brothers and myself raised zee animals. Vee had pets too. Lots of pets. Dogs to herd zee cattle, a house cat to catch zee pests. My eldest brother, Sturm. He had a huntink falcon. I had my horse. Hurrikan, zee second eldest, had his dog. Thunda, my younger brother, also had his dog. Zey didn't just herd, but vere excellent hunters. Sose guys couldn't stop arguink and competink over voose dog vas better. Zee drei of zem often vent on trips togeser. And zee cat belonged to Blitz. Zee youngest of us all. He alvays vas a quiet one. Preferred to tend the plants and read indoors."

_I love Papa's storytelling, and this side of him I know everything about._

"Blitz and Thunda, zey actually run my brewery. Beink zat zey know crop zee best and all. I get a profit, because it's my land zey're vorkink on. But oser zan zat, it's all seir own. I don't dictate or argue. Sturm and Hurrikan own zee creamery I constructed. It's zee same case. My land, but seir business. I bought sose pockets of land as gifts for zem. I vas zee only one zat didn't expand zee family business. Figured I at least owed it to zem to invest. As you know, I vent off to zee Council. Got into politics. Sturm's son. He inherited zee Atchung farm. Vith his vife and tvin boys. Zey sell mostly raw products now. No need to process cheese and mayo anymore for a profit. Zat's vat Sturm's creamery is for. Zey're little family mostly likes to keep to zemselves." Papa closes his eyes and scratches his stubble. "All of my brothers have sons. Except for Blitz. He has a daughter. Zee last time I saw her, sche vas pregnant, only after a month of beink married! My family is so big… It's hard to keep in touch sometimes. Let alone keep track! Hölle."

My soup arrives, a strange bright red, bubbling soup that kinda feels and tastes like tomato with some chewy, hearty grains in it of some sort, and other vegetables I don't recognize. _Tastes like minestrone and beef barley had a baby._

He continues. "Sturm has a vife and son. And zwei grandsons. Zee tvins I mentioned. Hurrikan, remarried after his ex-vife cheated on him. He has a son from her, and anoser son from his current vife. His eldest son has his vife and drei boys. His younger son has only recently married. Thunda has vier boys himself. All of zem each have seir own son and vives. Einer of sose vives is pregnant again, if I'm not mistaken. Or did sche have zee babe already? But vich vife, I am not sure. And Blitz. Blitz is a vidower. I remember how heart-broken he vas… Ven his vife died. Sche vas a sveetheart. But frail. Sche died in childbirth, and sche vas mundane. So he couldn't use magick on her to save her life, he vas, however, able to save his child."

Russet and I awaken in alarm, that last particular detail new to me as well.

Papa pauses. He looks at me with seriousness. "Zere are laws against usink magick on zee mundane. Even if you are married or related to zem. I personally, sink it's an injustice. But I didn't make zee laws at zee time. *Sigh* It's considered unfair. It vould cause certain mundane people to live longer and healsier zan osers because zey have magickal relatives or spouses. And no mundane is supposed to have advantage over zee oser. But in zee case of an unborn child, beink unable to determine vether or not zey are magick folk yet- its better safe zan sorry. So zee laws are different for zem." He shakes his head. "He still has his daughter, a young, new bride now. Expectink her first child- his first grandchild. Blitz vas zee only one voo married a mundane voman. Vas smitten by her, he said. Couldn't stop it, even if he vanted to, even if he tried."

Papa takes my hands. "Missy."

"Y-yes?"

His stare is intense. "I can't tell you voo to love. But take my advice. I don't discriminate against any sort of love. But please. Take. My. Advice."

I gulp.

Russet shrinks away slightly.

"Don't marry a mundane."

_O-oh. Well, we won't have to worry about that. _

"I just vant you to be happy. It's not zat I don't approve. But I don't vant you to go srough vat my brother had to. Even if your spouse lived a full life. You vould still outlive zem by AT LEAST a jahrhundert."

_At least a century?_

"You vould have to keep your magick a secret, even at home. And vat vould you do if you produced mundane children?"

I gasp quietly. _That isn't going to happen. Children aren't going to happen. But… if that did. I'd be heartbroken. _

"It vould only make you lonely all over again. Zat happy life vould last for only but a moment. And if sometink unfortanute happened to your kids or spouse, you'd be poverless to stop it. And believe me… No one vants to vatch seir loved ones die."

Papa claps his hands. "Ah. Zat's enough reminiscink for now. You know my story. Vat about you Russet?"

Russet awakens from es melancholy stupor. Having finished our food. We enjoy a refill of our drinks. "Ah. Yes. Well. I hail from the Otherworld. I'm native to it. I've lived there for half of my life, in the Highlands."

Papa looks impressed. "You're a Highlander? I heard it's fierce over zere."

Russet hums. "For humans, I suppose it would be." E looks at me, and smiles. "It has the highest concentration of the fae- my people there. It is the birthplace of our ancestors. Petunia knows it as the High Hunting Grounds. Both names are correct. Not only do the fae swarm there. But it is where the rarest of the rare, in terms of magickal creatures reside. Unicorns, dragons, sirens and sylph, even the merfolk."

"Merfolk! As in mermaids and mermen?"

"I can see the curiosity in your eyes, Lumie. Yes. Merfolk do exist. And they are as deadly as they are dazzling."

I avert my eyes, not wanting to look too excited. _I'm definitely not ready to go to the Otherworld anytime soon, but I sure am eager._

"One day, I met Petunia. She was singing amidst a group of faeries. I was fascinated by her…" Russet's ears twitch in remembrance. "I could sense that her affinity was green magick, but here she was, playing with faeries. She was younger back then. Right now she's only middle-aged. As was I at the time. It must've been. Oh, I don't know. 200 years ago."

_How old is she?!_

"Green mages tend to live the longest. Their magick is directly connected to their bodies. And the surrounding environment. There really is no set life-span for a wizard. Especially a human wizard." E finishes es tea. "Mhm! She has a lovely voice. You should hear it. I was drawn to her. She was so deep into the Highlands, and looked like she showed no fear or worry. As if she was a faery herself! I _had to_ go up to her. But I was terribly shy at the time. My life before Iris was dandy and all. But I've always loved you humans. Such fascinating creatures you are. I had never seen one before, but she smelled unmistakably human. This was my chance. I crept closer and watched her from afar. She began collecting wild plants and the surrounding faeries were even bringing some to her. I couldn't believe my eyes. Spellbound, I lost my footing and fell from the tree I was hanging from by my tail. It was so ungraceful of me." E groans. "Startled, Petunia drew her wand. But when she realized it was only me, she did the unthinkable."

_Russet? Are you blushing?_

"She picked me right up and hugged me! She dusted me off and nearly squeezed me to death. 'Ooooh! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Here. Let me help you, sweetie. Aww. Well aren't you just the cutest thing I've ever seen?!' she dared to say to me. As if I was… Was… Some sort of lost kitten or something else ridiculous like that! I'm a grown browny, not a sprout! So I wiggled myself free and demanded to know why she was so close to my nesting grounds. At the time, the browny clan was only half its size. Burgundy, Cordovan, Ecru, Tawny, Fallow and myself have known each other since we were born. I've always been the elder browny, I took it upon myself to expose myself first to this possible intruder. I tried to interrogate her, but she did not find me intimidating in the slightest. She could only coo and coddle me. I gave up. She was harmless anyway."

Poor Russet. It doesn't help that I feel the same way.

"So. We took a walk. I got to know her. Every couple of days or so, she would return. Sometimes bearing gifts. We would gossip and ramble and exchange ideas. Slowly, but surely she got to meet the rest of us. I admit, it took me longer to trust her, than I with you, Lumie."

Papa pats my hand.

"Continuing. Four seasons later and we were friends. I taught her many things, and she taught me all about mundane life."

_Wait. She did?_ I interrupt. "Russet. Is The Headmistress _wildseed?_"

Russet turns es head sideways. "Of course she is. You could not tell?"

"B-but! She's so… Powerful! She's a warden of her own academy!"

Russet shrugs. "I suppose with her vast, wealth of knowledge, that and her flighty, ditzy attitude… It'd be difficult to tell where she comes from. But yes, she is wildseed. At the time, she was biding her time in the Otherworld. To avoid the social stigmas and pressures the mundane were trying to force upon her."

"What was going on?" I question.

Russet sighs. "Petunia was born during a time... when women had not gained their independence yet. Even in America, which was still a fresh, newly founded country, women were treated as property, and thought of nothing more than incubators for child-bearing and servants in the home. She left her family behind and had their memories wiped because her parents were trying to force her into marriage. Into becoming a housewife. And she was only thirteen. They had no clue that she was a wizard."

Papa stiffens. We lean in closer.

"When I met Petunia, she told me her story. She wasn't thirteen when I met her, but well into her twenties. And an unwed woman of that age, who has never produced a child, is considered a burden, even as far to call her a disgrace. Her family's high social status demanded she must marry otherwise she'd be _given to_ someone against her will, to preserve the fortune and estate. So she left Earth. She moved to the Otherworld. Her father had already arranged a prospective husband for her, a man she had never met, but was promised to before she was even born. And when she became of age- that is, was old enough to bear children. He kept trying to marry her off to him. Petunia was powerless at the time, although she had already begun puberty. Her magick had not sprung forth. It was on her wedding day that she released her magick for the first time, and ran away. Thankfully before the ceremony could start. There was a great fuss and search for her. But with the help of a local guardian, she was able to erase her existence from the mundane world. However. She wasn't old enough to live in the Otherworld. Newly orphaned, and alone, she went to a magickal boarding school for girls. At the time, boys and girls had to go to separate academies. The magickal world may hold equal status for gender roles, but that did not change the time period, and thus, it would look suspicious for a co-ed school to exist. It was strange enough that a school for girls even existed- but most people saw it as nothing more than a place for wealthy women to learn etiquette and obedience. The magickal world played to the farce. It was still very common for twelve year old girls to marry men their fathers' age at the time too. What a mess it was. Perhaps that is why she sees your marriage as nothing but a smidgen. She sees the both of you as children in her eyes, and in her days, marriages of your type were typical. I am sorry if she seems insincere."

I bite my lip. "Let me cut to the chase. She graduated with honors and became the first female headmistress in American history. She is the first wildseed headmistress in magickal history, I might add. She had an alias at the time, and she wore her hair quite differently, wouldn't want to the mundane to catch on that the same woman had been running a school for over a hundred years without a sign of aging. In between her time in the Otherworld and on Earth, she took a few of us with her. The faeries I caught her singing with, are the same faeries you play with Lumie."

_"They are?!"_

"Woah. Woah." Papa motions us to stop with his hands. "Missy. You interact vith zee fae folk? Zat's dangerous!"

Russet hops up to stop him. "Rest assured Verwildert, she is in good hands. Petunia and those faeries have known each other for at least two centuries. And they are under contract not to use their magick to harm any of the students. Lumie also has us brownies to protect her."

"Mmmf." Papa relaxes. "Vell, aren't you just full of surprises." Papa directs at me while biting his thumb.

"I sympathized with Petunia. I wanted to help her cause. I wanted to help her run a school where everyone could be safe and happy, and do their magick in peace. Her school started out as an all-girls school. Where runaway brides and young wizard women could live in recluse. But she adapted to co-ed when the times changed. At the time, many of her young students were already mothers, so that couldn't be helped. But as the years went by she enforced a strict code on bearing children while still in the school-girl years. This encouraged wizard women not to marry so young, and flock to her school. I'm telling you, she was a revolutionary force for her time. I took my clan and moved into Iris. We met the others there, who she had rounded up as native brownies to Earth. Sepia, Sienna, Bole, Maroon, Umber and Wenge. And I haven't left since. Now I find myself with you, Lumie and Verwildert."

Papa and I look at each other. _What a story._


	3. Chapter 3

Papa pays for the meal. The waitress returns with a plate of complimentary lemon drops. They are rubbery and chewy, but not like gum. More like very soft taffy. It's not just lemony, but juicy and minty at the finish.

Afterwards, instead of taking another cab, Papa has the _brilliant idea_ to take the train, which Russet despises, to the ferry, which Russet does not mind, to our home, which Russet adores. It's only the middle of the day, so I unpack my things while Russet spends quality time with Papa. I take a nap in my room- _my own room. Things are looking up for me._

After my nap, I shower and sit myself in the living room, not far from the piano. I'm in my favorite armchair, huddled, with a book in my lap that I'm not interested in reading. It's for show, really. I'm thinking, and I don't want to be bothered.

_It's nice that I know more about those two now._ The meal was lovely, the stories were engaging, and I learned new things today about the magickal world. But… Hearing about their families, only makes me think about mine. _What… Am I going to do? _

_No. Not what… When._

_I'm not going to visit them this summer. I won't. And I don't want to come back ten years later to reconcile either. I don't… I don't think I want to reconcile with them this time. I don't think I ever want to see them again. I… I don't even miss them. _I bury my face in my hands. _I'm such an awful person._ _I surround myself with magick and nobles and fairy-tale creatures, and then all of a sudden I don't miss my family anymore. How could I be so heartless?_

The laughter of Russet and Papa in the kitchen disturbs my train of thought. Hearing them laugh so heartily, so effortlessly, it makes me remember. _No. They're not my family._ I lift my head over the seat to peer at them. The two of them are joking a cackling without a care in the world. _They're my real family! We're not even related. One of them isn't even the same species. But they love me. For me. And I love them. _I sit back down in my chair. _…I have nothing to feel guilty for._ Smiling, I retrieve a piece of smooth, crisp paper and begin my letter to the professor. As I begin writing, my smile fades.

"Dear Professor Grabiner,

It's good to be home. We've recently returned from an enchanted restaurant called 'The Compass Crossways' and Papa has promised to take me on more magical outings.

It's funny, Russet and Papa get along as if they've known each other for years. Even now, I can hear them laughing in the kitchen. But, something has been bothering me, so I want to write to you about it. Even though I've been visiting the manor for years, now that I'm actually living here, it feels 'off'. But I think I know why...

Do you remember when I returned from spring break and we had that brief discussion about my family? I told you about what they did to me. I also told you that I was thinking about having their memories adjusted so that they would forget I ever existed.

Well, I can tell you now. I am done thinking. I wish to have myself entirely forgotten. Now, before you say anything to stop me, you should know that I've been putting up with their abuse for as long as I can remember. Ever since I learned that people can have their minds magically wiped, it's been nagging at the back of my mind.

The truth is, I should have mustered up the courage to ask you right then and there. But I didn't, because like every other time they've hurt me I thought up excuses for them, reasons to forgive them, and I once again allowed the cycle of abuse to continue.

Because I'm a coward, sir.

Maybe this is too much personal information, but well, I don't spout my business to everyone. So I want you to take this seriously.

I grew up with nothing. _Nothing. _So naturally, life was hard. That's reason #1. I excused them for being cruel because they were just as miserable as I was.

Reason #2, I was different. My brother and sister, they're my half-siblings. My very existence brought shame to the family. Not only that, but I was tossed in and out of their lives, so I excused them for not wanting me around because I was practically a stranger.

Reason #3, I was no angel. We were constantly arguing, fighting, and I got in trouble at school all the time, plus I would sneak out and return home late whenever I could. So that didn't make things any easier. And... I could go on forever, but to chalk it all up- whenever things got physically violent, or I was thrown out, or if ever they insulted me, I just kept coming up with more reasons.

But I'm tired professor, it's been nineteen years, and it's only gotten worse. Now I'm a wizard too, another obstacle between us. To be honest, I'm perfectly okay with the idea of never seeing them again.

I'm probably ranting, judging by the end of the sheet of paper getting closer and closer. Anyway, I hope I didn't put a damper on your mood. Have a nice vacation professor, and I can wait until the new school year if you don't want to be bothered.

If you've read this far, then thank you for listening.

-Yours, Lumina"

_Well, that settles that. It looks like I'm going to be the first one to send a letter after all. I should tell Papa too. Those people won't be a reoccurring problem for us anymore…_

I'm called over to the kitchen. "Missy! Vat's zis about zat professor kissink you on zee cheek?!" Papa fumes.

With a groan, I get up from my chair. "He was merely wishing me a safe trip."

Papa throws his arms up in the air. "Don't play coy vith me, Missy! I am NOT in zee mood for zat!"

_Well, I'm in the mood to play coy._ "Alright. I'll tell you."

Russet and Papa exchange confused glances. Unsure of why I would surrender so easily. I sit myself on top of the table, Russet firmly planted on Papa's shoulder, imitating Papa, who is standing with his arms crossed. I tilt my head to the side, depicting boredom.

"Explain yourself Missy." Papa demands.

"It's a simple as you see it. He kissed me because he likes me. And I let him… Because I like him."

Papa's eyes flash for a moment. "Vaaaaaat?!"

Russet looks positively repulsed.

I hold up my hands for silence. "Listen to me."

They both do, biting their tongues.

"How old am I?"

"Huh?"

I cross my legs. "I said. How. Old. Am. I?"

Russet answers. "Nineteen…"

I nod. "Yes, I am. And by law, what is the age of consent?"

Papa boils. "_**Consent?!**_"

I look away, he shuts up.

"Eighteen." Russet answers again.

"Seventeen in this state." I add, playing with my fingers. "How many times have they tossed me away, or told me to never come back. How long has it been since I've been on my own?"

Papa tries to answer. "Ven… Ven you vere-"

"Fourteen." I say plainly. "Have I ever dated someone before?"

"You're _datink him?!_" Papa yells.

"Answer the question." I demand.

"N-no." He pouts.

"Have I ever brought a boy home, gone a date, told you I had a crush on someone?"

He stiffens. "No."

"No. You're right. I haven't. Do you know what else I haven't done?"

The two look at each other nervously.

"I've never been asked out. I've never gotten to go on a date or even receive a valentine. And do you know what I _have _done?"

They shake their heads.

"I've been bullied. I've been shunned, betrayed, and forgotten! I've been stood up, put down and flat-out rejected. But even though it hurt, I didn't let it define me. I'm patient. Because **I'm not desperate.** I didn't _need_ anybody then, I didn't _want_ anybody then. But I'm ready for that _now._"

"But Missy! Vhy him?! He dragged you into marriage!" Papa condones.

"He put your life in danger!" Russet adds.

"That was an accident, and not his intentions at all." I retort.

"He's at least ten years your senior!" Papa whines.

"_And_ he's your professor!" Russet mentions.

"But wasn't it you who said that you didn't 'discriminate against love in any form'?" I recite.

Papa pales, Russet slumps in response.

"Do I act out, do I disrespect you?"

"Missy-"

_"Have I?!_"

He sighs. "No..."

I continue. "Have I ever come home drunk or high?"

He shakes his head. "Never!"

I nod. "Do I have a criminal record? Did I get myself pregnant?"

Papa shudders. "_No, of course not._"

"Did I flunk out of school?"

He angers. "NO!"

I sit back. "Then why don't you trust my judgement? Haven't I proved myself to you? I am a good daughter, Papa. I _deserve this._"

"B-but. But. But." Russet stammers.

Papa pleads to me. "But Missy, how do you know you're not blinding grabbink onto zee first relationship you have?!"

Russet jumps. "Just because you're married to him, doesn't mean you _have to like him!_"

I smile. "I know. Don't you see? That's where you're making assumptions."

They dart their eyes to each other, then back to me.

"I said I like him. Not that I love him."

"Missy-" Papa growls.

"No, Papa. I know what I'm doing. I'm not as naïve as you think I am. And I'm not jumping at the first opportunity either. You need to have more faith in me. I… I've liked him for a while now. Even before the marriage."

Papa leans close to me. "But how do you know zat you're ready to be someone's vife?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. But when did I say I was ready for that?" I exhale loudly. "Papa. Russet. _I don't know_ if we're going to stick it through this marriage. It was an _accident_, remember? But that isn't going to change how we feel. Whether the contract remains or not, we're still going to pursue this." I look away. "That doesn't matter. We'll decide on that later. This relationship is young. And to be honest, _it still may not work out. _I know you don't want to see me get my heart broken. And, I know, _I_ don't want to get my heart broken."

Papa looks to the floor.

"But this is my choice, my chance. I'm going to take the risk. I know in the end, I'll be alright… Because even if it fails… I'll still have you." I answer quietly.

"Ooough. Missy." Papa groans.

"I think she's got us stumped on this one Verwildert." Russet laments.

He clicks his tongue. "Aye, she does. Ven Missy vants sometink, sche goes out and gets it. Sche's as stubborn as I am. And once sche's got her _heart _set on it, zere's no stoppink her." He chuckles. "Not even I, have zee pover to stop zat. And…"

I raise an eyebrow.

"I suppose it's fair." He admits. "Sche's been a goot girl. All her life. Sche is my child, but sche is also an adult."

I look at him gratefully.

"You're right Missy. You do deserve zis. But I vant you to be careful."

I run up to hug him.

"And please. Don't grow up… Too fast." He squeezes me tighter. Finally, a smile dresses his face. Russet nods and smiles faintly. He twirls me around. "Oooh! I just don't vant to have to schare my girl!"

Russet and I laugh._ Thank goodness that's over._

"Hmm." I glance at the clock. "I think I'd better start preparing dinner. How do- potato pancakes sound? With syrup and apples."

Their eyes widen.

"Oooh!"

"Oh yes, yes!"

_Yep. They'll forget everything if you feed them. And the both of them love potatoes? This is going to be too easy._

Papa leaves to wash up for dinner while Russet watches me work in the kitchen. I hum while I work.

Russet sniffs the air. "Smells good. What's the seasoning?"

_All the pancakes need to do are cook in the frying pan. Let's get these apples sliced._ "I'm making the pancakes from scratch using my own mashed potatoes, salt, sugar, egg, flour, and they'll be cooked in butter."

"Ah." Russet approves.

I sear the apples in butter and cinnamon. "Technically, we're having breakfast for dinner, but Papa's absolute favorite things to eat are any kind of sausage, with bread or potatoes. Depending on the meat, he'll top it with sauerkraut and mustard. And of course, it must be served with beer or coffee. He'll have nothing less."

"You know him like the back of your hand. Don't you?"

_I do! _"Just like how I knew he would be willing to compromise not having meat tonight."

"What is brat-wurst?" Russet asks me, rummaging through the refrigerator.

"Hey! Snooping is rude you know!"

"Verwildert told me to make myself at home. I will go through your food stores as often as I like! Now _what is this_ because it smells heavenly."

"It's a sausage. That's nürnberger rostbratwurst your holding. They're smaller than typical bratwurst sausages, which is just what I need when I'm skewering them and roasting them in the oven. It's flavored with marjoram, caraway, and is a mixture of minced beef and pork."

Russet licks es lips. "Sounds delicious." Then e makes a perplexed face. "Wait a minute. Aren't you a vegetarian? How do you know how to cook meat?"

"I wasn't raised as one. I grew up on meat, just like everyone else. But I stopped eating it when I began cooking for myself. I don't know. I just couldn't eat it anymore. I don't have a deep, spiritual reason for being vegetarian if that's what you're asking." I shudder, remembering the ham sandwich I struggled with on a field trip to the petting zoo.

"You're just a big softie on the inside aren't you?" Russet teases.

I shrug off es comment and flip the pancakes.

"But don't you miss it? Eating meat? Even I eat meat. And I can _talk to_ animals."

_Oh yeah, e can. How can e stomach that? _"Eh. Sometimes. You don't think my mouth waters whenever a steak passes by? It's NATURAL for humans to eat meat. We're OMNIVORES. That's why I still eat eggs, and I do enjoy other animal products. I just… Try to avoid the flesh."

Russet pouts. "But plants are living things as well. And they die when we consume them."

I wag my finger at em. "Yes, but the plants _I_ eat are not sentient. There's nothing wrong with the way you or I eat. Plants and unfertilized eggs do not scream and cry out in agony. So stop fighting me on this."

Russet mutters. "If you kill them quickly enough, none of that happens."

"Russet!" I exasperate.

E squeaks. "What? I'm just justifying my cause! You wouldn't be so skinny if you had some meat in your system."

I groan. "Here, you nosy little thing." I hand em a raw sausage. Russet snatches it and gobbles it down. _Like a little rat._ "Russet, get the jam and syrup from the cabinet would you?"

Dinner is devoured heartily. Russet compliments me on my cooking skills and Papa offers up the idea to cook potatoes with every meal. I think it's a bad idea, because there's only so much I can do with potatoes. But he wins Russet over when he offers em a chance to sample all the different sausages.

_Great, now I'm going to be eating the same thing for weeks._


	4. Chapter 4

I'm preparing breakfast in the morning, when I notice that Russet is awake, and watching me. "Good morning, Lumie." E yawns.

"Good morning Russet. I'm surprised you're awake at this time. You mentioned that it's been hard for you to stay up during the day."

Russet stretches emself and squeaks rather loudly. "Well. Here I don't have any chores to do. So I'm not as tired. And brownies don't share the same sleep cycle as humans. We sleep throughout the middle of the day. But we're usually up in the morning too."

_Maybe it's because e is so old, that e gets worn out easily. Sometimes, I worry about you Russet._

"What's on the menu today?" Russet inquires.

"Well I was thinking of making 'brunch'. You'll probably be asleep by lunchtime so I thought maybe I could squeeze both meals into one. Or uh... Is this your 'dinner time' and last night was 'lunch'? Wait..."

Russet smiles. "No, no. Just set something aside for me, whatever it is, and I'll have it with tonight's dinner. It doesn't matter what I'm eating, as long as I can share the meal with you." Russet hops over to the counter from the table. "Does Verwildert cook?"

I decide on a light oatmeal with almonds and peach slices."Rarely. He can put together a nice salad or sandwich. But the only real cooking he does is on the grill. His skills are spot on, and he makes a great cup of coffee." _Speaking of which, I should start Papa's coffee._ "I suppose he's more used to having a woman cook for him. I wish I could've met his mother. Then I could make his favorite meals the way she used to."

"It astounds me you know." Russet says quietly.

"Hmm?"

"The both of you. I've never seen a bond between two people so strong. You remind me a lot of Maroon and Petunia. It's as if the two of you are true kin. I swear, it must be fate." Russet turns away. "Honestly, if you didn't look so different from one another, I'd never guess you weren't related."

That makes me happy.

"Lumie."

"Yes, Russet?"

E stands up. "You don't need to do that. I'll make the coffee."

"Oh. Yeah? Are you sure? It's not that hard."

E pushes my hand away from the coffee maker. "I actually know how to use a few mundane appliances. And I already know how he likes it."

While Russet sits and watches the coffee maker, e speaks to me. "So, do you believe in it?"

_Oatmeal is done. Now to chop the nuts and slice the fruit, I can hear Papa moving about upstairs. He must've smelled the coffee._

"Believe in what?"

"Fate." Russet says with a flick of es tail.

"I... do. To a degree."

Russet's ears fly up. "How can you believe in something to a degree? You either believe in it or not."

_ How do I word this?_ "Hmmm. Let me explain."

"Okay."

I fetch the bowls and spoons. "I do believe in fate. But I do not believe that _everything_ is fated to happen. I do not believe that an entire person's life is etched in stone. I think, ultimately, that we manipulate our own destinies."

"Explain."

I begin pouring the oatmeal. "Well. What I do with my life, who I am. Is all up to me. But there are things in my life that I cannot control or change. Those are my fates."

"Fates?" Russet asks, looking even more confused.

"Mhm. We are all our own people. But that doesn't mean we aren't influenced by outside things. People are products of their environments too. Like... Kids who are abused at home develop shattered egos. Those that are spoiled end up overly confident and narcissistic. Someone who has never felt love may grow to be bitter and hate the world. You get it? You cannot help where you come from, or how you are raised, so that part of your life is fated to be."

Russet nods, slowly.

"However. Where you come from, who you surround yourself with doesn't make up your _entire_ existence. It does shape you, but only by a portion. Your remaining personality is what will really define you and your eventual path in life. Your hobbies, likes, dislikes, etc. Your morals and values. Those things can be manipulated by others too, but ultimately- _outside influence aside_ you have to own up to the other half of your person. And I think the mistake most people make is that they confuse influence with choice. I'll use myself as an example."

I sprinkle the nuts and fruit slices on top of the oatmeal.

"It was fated for me to grow up the way I did. You know... Poor. Did I like it? No. But it couldn't be helped. Although, that doesn't mean it is my fate to stay in poverty. True, I do have to try harder than most others, because I was born with disadvantage of having to catch up with the rest, just to stand an even chance, but no one said life had to be fair. Fate certainly isn't."

Russet's eyes are glued to me.

"I suppose that means it was also fated for me to be born the outcast. I don't know if Papa told you already, so I'll be brief. But my biological family **hates me.**"

Russet's eyes bulge.

"They've been cruel to me my entire life. And that, I do _not_ think was fate. It was something they chose to do. Because it was easier to turn me into a scapegoat, rather than accept things about me that they didn't like. That is not fate Russet. That is a destiny they chose. To exile me out of their lives."

Russet nods solemnly.

"I, in turn, could've responded with my own hate. One would think I would, right? After all, who could blame me? I could've returned the favor. I could've grown up angry and resentful towards them. I can't even say I haven't thought about giving them a taste of their own medicine. But you know what Russet? I chose not to. The person I am today, wasn't fated to be. I crafted my own destiny when I chose not to walk in their footsteps. If I chose the former, you would not like the person you see today."

I take a breather and choose to wrap it up, _too many hard subjects in the span of one day._ "So the life I have today is one I made for myself. But like I mentioned earlier, what I didn't have a choice in, did affect my character. That is also fate, because it is absolute. _Fate is absolute_ Russet. That's where it truly exists. Whether I turned out to be a good Lumie or a bad Lumie- I'd still develop certain attributes that are unflinching. But, those are traits that I developed because of my upbringing. Do you get my point now?"

Russet pauses, then bites es cheek. "Actually, yes. I do."

The coffee is almost done. _I should make some toast. Papa likes to dip toast in his coffee._

"_**Goot, got it memorized?**_" I imitate in my deepest voice, pointing to my temple for emphasis.

Russet chortles. "Oh, that was terrible. Don't ever do it again. Ahaha!"

I puff out my chest and stand on my tip toes. Fists clenched. _**"Vat are you laughink at?!"**_ I imitate again, pounding my chest for further emphasis.

Russet rolls in laughter. "Bahahahaha!"

I hurriedly put slices of bread into the toaster when I hear heavy footsteps approaching us.

"Vat's so funny?" Papa asks the room.

He is only met with awkward silence.

"_Vell?_"

It's becoming harder and harder for us to not snicker.

"It vas about me-_ vasn't it?!_"

Russet and I look at each other, at him, back to each other, snort, and then burst out laughing again.

"AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Ahahahaha!"

"Oi! Vat is it? I vant to know."

"L-lumie. Lumie. Do it agaiiiin~ Pfffft! Hahahaha!" Russet giggles, barely able to breathe.

I back away. "Nu-uh! He'll get mad at me."

Papa takes my shoulders. "Do vat again? Vhy vould I be upset?"

We can't stop giggling and it only makes him more angry and confused, Papa stares hard at me and I finally give in.

_**"Vouldn't you like to know?"**_ I repeat in my failed Verwildert-voice.

Russet hollers in uncontrollable laughter, and falls off the counter. I sink slightly, holding my ribs.

Papa's mouth drops open. "I DO NOT SOUND LIKE ZAT!"

This only makes Russet and I scream in jolliness.

Huffing and puffing, Papa sits at the table, arms crossed. After wiping the tears from my eyes and picking Russet off the floor, I serve everyone their breakfast. All is forgiven once coffee is on the table.

Finishing off breakfast, I speak up. "Papa."

He looks my way from his coffee mug. "Hrm?"

"I wrote a letter back to Iris. I…" I stop.

Papa looks at Russet, who only shrugs es shoulders. "Vat is it? Go on."

I sigh. "I told them. I told them that I wanted to make my family forget about me forever."

Russet jumps in surprise and Papa's face goes to stone. But I know, behind his hardened expression is an undertone of relief. His eyes betray him.

"Missy. Once you make zat decision, zere is no goink back."

I try to smile, weakly. "I know. But… I'm not happy with them. I'm tired of not being happy. I don't want them to hurt me anymore. I have you… I don't need them."

Papa finishes his hot coffee in a serious of gulps and motions me up from the table. He rushes to my side and embraces me. "Are you sure zis is vat you vant?"

I hug him back. "Yes." I say sadly.

He doesn't waste a second. "Give me zee letter, I vill have it sent." We rush to my room and I give him the letter. It's already sealed, addressed and stamped, all he has to do is send it. "I'm vith you Missy. I support you." He says with a hand on my shoulder for reassurance.

He makes his way to his room to fetch his slippers.

"Wait!" I almost shout.

Papa turns around worriedly.

"I'm going with you."

He exhales in relief and nods.

I hurriedly get dressed, so does Russet. Then I hand em to Papa while clutching the letter in my own hands. It's so silly, it's just a short walk to the mailbox. But we treat it like a huge occasion. _I guess it is when you think about it. With the sending of this letter, I'm never going to see my family again. Ever._ I walk slowly over to the mailbox. And with one final look at the letter, I shakily drop it into the chute.

_There! __It's done!_

_I did it!_

_ …Goodbye._

While we're still outside I anxiously yelp and jump up, the other two jump at my sudden action.

"Russet!" I squeal.

"W-what is it?" E says worriedly.

"You can't be out in the open!"

Papa and Russet snicker. "It's okay Lumie, I'm cloaked." Russet reassures me.

"But… If you can cloak, then why did you hide in my bag? Why did I have to stuff you in my shirt at the airport?"

Papa grins at Russet. "You sly dog."

Es ears drop. "I just wanted to be carried around and look through your stuff. That's all."

I huff and puff. _Does e not have any idea how furry and ticklish e is?!_ "Nosy little mouse!" I swat at em, but Russet dodges me. I continue to swat, but e effortlessly leaps and swings over Papa's shoulders, down his back, up his leg, to the very top of his head where I can't reach. "You can't avoid me forever." I say with a wagging fist.

"Verwildert, help me!" Russet squeals.

Papa only chuckles. "You're on your own. It's because of you zat I keep gettink smacked."

We're outside anyway so we decide to take a walk. "This place looks nothing like where we came from." Russet admires from the safety of Papa's head.

"Ah. Yes. Staten Island is a complete turnaround from zee city." Papa notes.

"It's so... Sparce?" Russet notices.

"Sparce?" I smirk.

"Er. There are houses, but no big buildings and crowded roads. There are more trees than where we arrived from, but this place is not a forest."

I walk hand in hand with Papa, shading my eyes with my right hand, looking up at the tall, thick trees that tower above us.

"Vat schould vee do today?" Papa asks us.

"Hmm. I'm at a loss. I don't know the area, what's a fun thing to do in the summer Lumie?"

"Oh." I blurt.

"Got an idea?" Papa guesses.

"Yeah, I do. Why don't we go to the beach?"

Papa thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "Come to sink of it…" He looks at himself, and we examine each other.

Papa is in cargo shorts, sandals and a floral shirt. I'm in green capris, a black tank and sandals with my hair tied to the side. Russet is even wearing a sunhat.

"Ve're pretty much dressed for it. Schould vee go back to zee house for zee batink suits?"

I contemplate this. "We don't have to. I don't need to go swimming, I can just wade in the water. You?"

"Nah. If it comes down to it, I've got pocket geld."

So we take the long walk to the beach. It takes us over two hours, and we stop to snag some ice cream from a passing truck and sit on a bench.

Finally arriving, I breathe out a sigh of relief. Staten Island, being an island, has its own beaches. But because it's not in the city, the mobs of tourists aren't swarming every inch of the place. Only a few locals have come out to enjoy the fine weather and water. And to be fair, there's so many other things to be doing in the summer. Jogging, bike-riding, fishing, etc. so the local population evenly distributes itself. A few stands dot the beach. Cold drinks, pretzels, hot dogs, shish kebabs. We remove our shoes and relish the feeling of sand beneath our feet.

Russet, being properly cloaked, also enjoys this luxury, es tiny footprints unseen to the mundane world. I break away once in a while to ask a vendor if they're hiring, but the two drag me away and make me promise not to start looking for work until at least a month into the break.

"But I only have 3 months, that's a third of my potential profit I'm not making!"

They overpower me and physically drag me from asking further questions.

Papa gets himself a hot dog, and Russet a basket of fried fish and French fries. Russet offers me some, but I'm not hungry. E tries to sneak a piece of fish into my mouth, asking me if I would like a French fry. Not fooled, I avoid it despite es cajoling. Papa walks behind us, hands in his pockets, cane hanging from his belt loop as Russet and I dodge and jump at the waves.

Russet is puny, and I worry about em getting swept up by the water and me having to dive in to rescue em. But my fears are dissolved when Russet reminds me how swift and lithe e is. Hopping, skipping and even flipping away from the waves. E goes down on all fours and agilely scurries to and fro. While I squeal and tip-toe and run just to avoid getting wet. We do let our feet get wet, Russet having to hitch hike on my ankle, dragging es tail on the sand so the waves can wet es tail. When I go deeper in, Russet climbs higher, hanging emself from my hip. I'm wading in the water, now knee-high with Russet swinging from my pocket to kick es feet in the water.

"Ah. What a day." Russet sighs.

"Isn't it though?" I agree dreamily. _To think, I could've avoided years of pain and actually enjoyed my vacations if I had just stayed away from them._ Then I feel a twinge of remorse for thinking such a thought.

Papa's voice pulls me from said thought. "Missy! Say cheese!" Papa hollers with a small camera in his hand.

Instinctively, I smile and wave. Russet hops in mid-air just in time for the flash. I wade out of the water. "Papa. Are you allowed to take pictures with Russet in them?"

He waves me off. "Of course I can, I just can't get zee pictures developed at a local spot. I'm not actually goink to print zem. I'm goink to duplicate zee captured images and transfer zem to photo paper vith blue magick. Zen I vill destroy zee camera."

Throughout the day, Papa joins us back in the water, and we have a splash fight. Russet does fall into the ocean, but I only panic for a second, because e swims better than any fish. To make a point Russet squirts water in my face, and coyly dives back down into the water to avoid my grasp.

"How can you see underwater? It's salty." I ask em.

"My eyes aren't made like yours, but I can't see anything through this gunk even_ with_ my non-human eyes!"

We take more pictures, order shaved ice and sing songs. Russet and I make a sand castle, with em crowning emself "ruler by divine right" to which I smother em in sand and crush the castle.

"No! My kingdom!" Russet laments dramatically.

"Too bad. _Viva la resistance, you miniature tyrant!_"

Papa and I write words in the sand. All in German of course, to which passersby scratch their heads at. Silly words like "I bet you can't read this." And "You have no idea what I'm saying." The morning having passed, Russet tuckers out and falls asleep. Papa tucks em into his pocket and we try not to walk too much, so e doesn't have a bumpy ride.

We end the day collecting sea shells as the sun sets. It takes longer than I would like because we have to sort through the throngs of litter to find anything decent. Russet awakens to partake in that. With many little shells crammed into our pockets, our feet sandy, clothes still a little wet. We walk back home again, Papa and I hand in hand, Russet atop his head, craving another nap. The spitting image of a happy family.

"Vat are you goink to do vith zee sea schells Missy?"

"I have a few ideas. Making jewelry is probably the most expected. But I could also craft charms, maybe structure them to form some sort of sculpture."

He grins and rubs the top of my head. Papa has always been my biggest fan when it comes to my work. The walk home is long enough for Russet to feel refreshed. We all make a break for the showers, then I prepare tonight's dinner of original bratwurst, which are large and grilled on the stovetop in a potato-bread roll. With a side of coleslaw.

"Good night Papa." He bends down to hug me lightly, and we kiss each other on the cheeks.

"Gute nacht, Missy." He says gently.

"Gute nacht, Russet." He waves to em. Papa retires to his room.

Wanting to stay up late, Russet and I enjoy tea in the living room. E sitting atop the piano, me in my armchair.

"Wasn't today marvelous."

I grin. "_It was_\- Russet?"

Then a smile creeps upon es face. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile so much."

"Um. I've been happy." I tilt my head.

"You're different when you're around him, you know. You're not so rigid and uptight. Not so…"

"Stressed?" I answer.

"Exactly. I like it. I wish you could be like this more often."

_If I can catch a break nowadays, then I will be._ "So do I." I admit.

"Smiling and laughter befits you Lumie."

_R-really? Never heard that one before._ "Ehehe. Why the compliments all of a sudden?"

E shrugs. "I don't really know, myself. I'm just speaking the truth. I quite like it here myself. The air isn't as clean as at Iris, but around the property itself, it's a very pure space. Reminds me of home."

_E must mean es Otherworld home._ "Do you ever miss the Otherworld?"

Russet sighs. "No."

"That's it? Just. No?"

"I prefer this world, to be honest. I rather like being surrounded by humans. The sights, the smells, the sounds. Mundane humans are a source of trouble, but brownies have a rich history of coexisting with common folk long before we associated with wizards. And this house is truly a home. I've been exploring it while the two of you sleep at night. I can sense an air of security and comfort."

"Could that have anything to do with the wards Papa and I put around the house?"

Russet awakens. "Making wards _already?_ So that's what it is. What are the terms of the ward?"

I stretch and yawn. "Nothing crazy. Er. Too crazy. Papa and I each poured our feelings into the spell. He was the main spellcaster, but I have my influence. The ward is meant to welcome and protect our loved ones. Friends, family... and to... punish our enemies or intruders." I clear my throat. "Papa said that if anyone tried to force their way in, they would die slowly and painfully. He wouldn't give me the details, so I don't even know what would happen."

Russet frowns. "Verwildert is not to be trifled with."

I whistle. "No he is not."

"Speaking of him." Russet recalls. "Back in the school, he told me about you. About how the two of you met."

I pale and sit up straight.

Russet's face is stern. "You were so young. You're very fortunate to be alive Lumie, let alone untouched."

_Don't remind me._


	5. Chapter 5

"He also told me a bit about your time together. Your lessons and such. He's quite the father-figure."

_The best I've ever had. _"What's on your mind?" I probe.

"It's just… I don't get it."

"Get what?"

Russet twitches es nose. "You've managed to make 'The Tempest' adore you and adopt you into his home. You develop a method of spell-casting I have never seen. You earn my trust, and my clan's trust. You've received a blessing from the fae! So I know you have good tastes."

_"Tastes?"_

"Why would someone like you be attracted to _Hieronymous?!_"

I snort.

"It's not funny! You are rare and unique. Powerful and young. Innocent and sincere. Yet you wind up with a man like him?! What could you possibly see in a person like that?"

"Potential."

Russet cocks es head back.

"Isnt it obvious? I see potential." I repeat.

"What are you? What do you-"

"I see a potential future with that man." I lean forward in my chair. "I see a man who I can be happy with, despite his faults. He may be crude and rough on the outside, but with my own eyes I have seen the gem that is his heart. I'm not looking at this relationship through a rose-colored lens. He's impatient; a quick fuse. He can mean and rude, and I know he is distrusting."

E throws es arms up. "Exactly!"

_But I'm not done._ "However... I've learned that... He is also protective of me, sincere in his apologies, and true to his word. He is intelligent, skilled and confident. I have seen a side of him that no one else has. I've seen his _kindness._"

Russet blinks incredulously.

"I have also seen his weaknesses as much as I have seen his strengths. He is wise, but still has much to learn. He is strong, but that doesn't mean he is invincible. He is independent, but that doesn't mean he isn't lonely." I chuckle softly. "He even has a sense of humor."

"_That man_ has a sense of humor?!"

"This has only just begun. I have no idea where this is going to take me. What this is going to lead to. But, then again, neither does he… There is great potential for the both of us. We only have to work towards it. Together."

Russet says nothing, but slinks back down to sit on the piano. I walk over to pat em on the head. "Good night, Russet."

"G-good night."

I'm making waffles for breakfast, when I spot Russet, who is always the first one up, playing with the piano. E dips es tail and presses on the keys. I wince at the horrid sound. The notes are clearly off-key. "D-do you play?" I ask towards the living room, although I pretty much know the answer.

"Huh? Oh, no. Why would- _How could I?!_ Can't you see how big this thing is?"

I roll my eyes. "I thought you could perhaps, run up and down the keys and form a tune. Maybe dance on them."

Russet clicks es tongue. "_Adorable._"

I check the fridge. _Oh, we have strawberries?_ I pull them out. _And we have chocolate chips._ I pull those out as well. I waste no time melting down the chocolate in a pot on the stove. I begin washing and cutting the strawberries.

"Lumie. Why don't you cook with magick? It's faster."

I stop in my tracks. Then I giggle. "You know what? I really don't know. I'm just so used to doing things the mundane way."

"Well, you've made those other delicious meals the mundane way, so I suppose I shouldn't question your methods." Russet says off-handedly. E sniffs the air. "Is that? Chocolate, I smell?"

I try to suppress my smile as I hear the pitter patter of little feet rush to the kitchen.

"What are you making?" Russets asks hungrily.

"A chocolate spread for my buttermilk waffles. I'm topping them with these." I hold up the bowl of fruit.

"May I? Partake?"

"You want chocolate on your waffles too? Am I correct?" I tease.

E nods eagerly.

"I'll do that for you. Oh. Here, let me show you something. You said you don't cook dessert at school, so maybe you haven't tried this yet. You know what? I'm going to use magick to save time." I stop the flame, the chocolate already a bubbling concoction. I drizzle a spoonful of it onto a strawberry and cast Cool on it so the chocolate solidifies.

"Chocolate-covered strawberries?"

_Ah, so you haven't had it yet._

"Oh well. It's chocolate, sooo…" I watch em chew, then es ears and tail perk up, a goofy smile on Russet's face. "This is a match made in heaven!"

I make a separate bowl of the dessert while we finish our waffles by the time Papa finally wakes up and makes it to the table. Russet and I eat out of the bowl full of the simple dessert. I hand him his plate and the syrup. Russet hands him his mug.

"I smell chocolate. Dessert for breakfast, Missy?"

I happily eat another one, wondering to myself _why the heck don't I eat these all the time?_ "It was something I thought of on the spot."

His eyes dilate when he realizes what I'm eating. "Are sose-?!"

"Hrm?" _What's the deal?_

I look at the bowl.

I take a **good look** at the bowl.

_OH._

Russet is confused by our facial expressions. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Russets says, still eating.

Papa and I quickly glance at one another.

I shake my head. He smiles nervously. I find myself only being able to stomach the one I already started while Papa avoids the stuff altogether. Russet happily scarfs down the entire bowl and even makes a go for the pot.

When breakfast is over, Russet goes back to toying with the piano. Papa grimaces at the harsh notes. "Mmm. Perhaps I schould teach em too, eh?" He pats me on the back and leaves the table.

I intertwine my fingers and stare down at the wooden surface. _Dammit, how could I be so stupid? _I let out a long sigh. _It wasn't always this way. It used to be just like that- like the way it was a few minutes ago. I didn't even have to think twice. But now… How did I not catch what I was doing? I was too excited to see Russet's reaction._ I look to the dishes in the sink, still smelling like melted chocolate. _Has it really been that long? _I frown. _It used to be worse actually. Anything that reminded me of her. Bodies of water, lilypads, honeydew melon, chocolate-covered strawberries… Now it's just the strawberries. They're the worst. What those things do to me. _I scratch my head. _Ugh! It's just another food. Why? Even after all of these years can I not get over it?_ I sit there in silence. _Tch. Now I'm too bothered to enjoy the day at home._ I rise from the table to go take a shower, making extra sure I'm scrubbed spotless. I change into a black shirt, pants and flats. I don't bother toweling as in an angry huff of hot air the water evaporates from my skin and hair, which I tie into a bun. As custom, I retrieve my black nail polish, and thanks to magick it only takes a few seconds for the paint to dry.

Papa returns to the dining table. "Russet has finally gone off to sleep. Ate too much."

I nod.

"You're goink to go see her aren't you?" He asks worriedly.

"Uh-huh." I respond quietly.

"Missy. I'm- I'm sorry."

I stop him there. "No. I didn't know what I was doing. I thought I was over it for a moment, but… I'm still not. It's dumb. But I'm still not over it. It would've happened even if you hadn't said anything."

He sighs.

"I won't be there all day. I know it's not her birthday but… I should go see her. It'll help clear my mind."

He doesn't argue. I give him a quick peck on the cheek and make my way to the door. "See you later." I call out.

He waves me off, looking unsure.

_I've still got money left over from my student allowance... Yeah. I'll take a cab. _I take a bus to the ferry, and from the docks I hail a taxi, instructing him to take me to Riverside Drive. I exit, pay and stop by a botanical to pick up a small, saltwater candle. It's a short walk to Trinity Cemetery. This part of town is eerily quiet, despite the beautiful, sunny weather. I barely even hear any birds chirping, as if they know somehow this is not the time or place. I have to make sure to keep my eyes on the sidewalk, not wanting to get a good look at the many spirits I pass while entering the cemetery.

It's not hard to find the gravestone. It's a beautiful burial spot, her parents would have no less. _They paid no expense, and it's by a river at that. I'm sure she's grateful. I wonder how they're doing, back in Japan. The surrounding water and wildlife must be a constant, painful reminder of their lost child._

I walk down the familiar path, ignoring the whispers and mutterings of the dead, their stares and attempts to get my attention. _Please let there be a spell out there to keep me from seeing and hearing them all the time._

_Here she is._ I place the tiny candle in front of a pretty, white marble grave. Although I already know what it says, I read the lapis-blue colored inscription:

"Lorili Ao Ningyo

Our precious daughter, and beloved friend.

1994-2006"

_Why am I even here? This is just a memorial. Her ashes were scattered into the Eastern sea._ I sigh and sit down. I pull out a small box of matches and light the candle, place my hands over my heart, shut my eyes, and begin.

_Okay Lori. I'm only going to be here for as long as the candle stands before being melted away. Um. Hi. How are you? I'm fine. In fact… I have a lot to tell you!_ I spend over an hour mentally explaining to her what has happened in the past year. Attending Iris, making new friends, finally getting to study magick, getting married.

_Our little family might be gaining a new member. I wonder if Russet will stay with us every summer. Oh, and my husband. He's a hassle, but… I've got this huge crush on him. I can't let him in on that though. Not yet, it's too soon. I know it's crazy. All of this is crazy. It drives me up the wall sometimes. Lori, I miss you so much. I wish you could answer me. I wish you could visit me, even if it was for just one, short moment. But I know that would be selfish of me because then you wouldn't be getting any rest- so please don't try to do me any favors. ...Ugh. Yeah, I know, I just kind of contradicted myself. Sorry. I just really hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I'm trying my best for the both of us. The candle has blown out, so I'm going to take my leave now. _

I say my farewells and excuse myself from the grave, only to be disoriented when several spirits who were crowding me as I had my eyes closed try to get a closer look. I look up to many ghostly, and a few downright terrifying faces and they react with shock and glee when they notice that I can see them. I'm forced to rush out of the cemetery with the dead calling after me. _Can't a woman mourn in peace?!_

I return home well into the afternoon. "Papa? I'm home."

"Hello Missy, I'm in zee kitchen."

I walk on over to receive my "welcome home" hug.

"How vas it?"

I roll my eyes. "The same as always. I bring her an offering, pray, then the spirits refuse to leave me alone. But I am glad I got it out of my system."

"Russet's sleepink."

"Its es bedtime, so that means it's you and me for now. What did you do while I was gone?"

Papa squints. "Talked vith Russet, and I played zee piano for a little vile. I had to. E is so fascinated by zat sink."

"And I'm guessing Russet has no sense of rhythm, based on your facial expression."

Papa groans. "If e vas a songbird, I'm sure e vould tweet backvards!"

"Is that all?" I ask.

"Mmmf. It took a vile." Papa grunts.

"Are you thirsty? I'm going to get some water."

He shrugs. "Yes. Vould you like to have a talk?"

"Why not?" I opt to serve Papa his water with extra ice. _This summer is going to be one for the record books. It's still May, but its breached 88 degrees outside._ I sit on the counter, he comfortably at the table.

"You've changed Missy."

I tilt my head.

"You're not so schy anymore. I'm guessink beink around your own kind has done vonders for your confidence."

_Yeah, it has._

"So… How long did it take for zem to call you 'Lumie'? I sought you vould never let anyone call you zat again."

_So did I._ "It wasn't my idea."

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows.

"To be fair, it's an easy nickname to think of. My roommates thought of it when I came back from the Yuletide break. We all came up with nicknames for each other. It caught me off guard. But… I can't let her haunt me forever. And they call me it out of affection. How could I say no?"

He looks away. _Is he okay?_

"You're so young. Yet, you've seen sinks people can only imagine in seir vorst nightmares. I'm relieved you haven't ended up in zee crazy house."

_Who knows?_

"Agh. Zat vas rude of me."

I shake my head. "No it wasn't. I didn't take it to offense. Is that what you're worried about?"

He taps the table nervously. "Yes. Not all zee time. But… It's a lot to bear, even for a vizard. You're still human. Zee human mind has its limits. _And you're a vite mage._ I knew you vould be. You schowed all zee signs."

"You're a blue mage."

He grins. "But of course!"

"But… You show a great deal of skill in white magick too."

He looks flattered. "I vould agree to say zat it is my strongest asset, after red magick."

I perk up. "Rank your magick based on the pentachromatic system."

He scratches his chin. "Hmmm. Blue, red, vite, green, and black. You now."

"White, green, black, blue, red."

"I sought your green magick vould come right after your vite magick, since you love zee animals and all. But vhy vould you consider your red magick at zee very bottom? It doesn't require much more zan emotion and energy- very similar to vite magick."

"I think they're as different as night and day."

"How so?"

"White magick is of the innermost psyche, but red magick relies on raw instinct. From my experience white magick has a lot more to do with the heart and red magick is more about using your head. That's probably why red and blue magick pair so well."

"_Red and blue?_ Vat vould make you sink of a pair like zat?"

Instantly I flush, Professor Grabiner being the first example to pop into my mind. "It's just... Based on personal experience... I've learned all of the spells already."

He spits out his water.

"Aaagh! Papa!" I scold him, angrily.

The spray settles while he goes into a coughing fit. "*Cough*cough*hack!* V-vat?! Already?!"

"Why does that surprise you so much? I told you already I was learning the material quickly."

He clears his throat. "But you've only completed your freschman year!"

To save myself from an interrogation, I give him the same explanation I gave to The Headmistress at the Glen concerning the differences between controlled-casting and free-casting.

"You may be onto sometink." Papa ponders. He throws his arms up. "Aren't you a trip?"

_I'm weird. That's what I am. Even to other wizards I'm weird._

We continue our discussion and go more into depth about my spell casting abilities. Papa eases when he figures out I may have learned all of the spells, but I only have their primary forms down. After that we go back to ranking our skills.

"Your top skills are your best assets, sey are vat you go for first in any situation sey are applicable. Your bottom schould only be your last resorts, as sey are not as reliable." He lectures.

"It's my black magick that I'm struggling with the most, even though I don't consider it my worst skill. It may deal with objects, but it isn't an arts and crafts class. Half of it is strategy and science, making traps, using tools, enchanting things, organizing and re-arranging- mixing compounds too. You can sculpt things and alter them, but I'm no sculptor, per say. So I struggle a bit there. Then again, the other half of black magick includes charms-making and potions-brewing, which I enjoy and excel at. Because I'm only really good at half of the subject, I think it belongs in the middle."


	6. Chapter 6

Russet awakens an hour later. Papa hastily decides this is a good time to "showcase my skills", even though I'm pretty sure he just doesn't want Russet to play with the piano. We spend the rest of the evening listening to me play a few nursery rhymes, national anthems, and of course, some songs from Beethoven. I only stop to make dinner, which is thankfully, not potatoes and sausage tonight. I was in the mood for pizza.

The next day we sleep through the morning, so for lunch I'm making knackwurst with potato salad.

"You're not using mayonnaise for the potato salad?" Russet wonders.

"Nah. Not in this heat. The potatoes are chopped, and I'll boil them with the skin on. Then I'll drain them, add a little vinegar, salt, pepper, chives and blue cheese. It actually taste better cold and if you let it sit overnight. Maybe I should use magick to age the salad a bit.."

"That means the leftovers will be scrumptious."

I scoff. "If you two ever_ left_ any leftovers."

Russet puts es hands up in innocence. "You haven't even seen what Burgundy is capable of, so don't judge me just yet. Which one is this?"

"Knackwurst? It's entirely beef. And it's heavy on the garlic. So it should pair well with the potato salad."

It doesn't take long before Papa comes down for his coffee. He chugs down the whole mug and heads for the door. Russet and I look at him like he's crazy.

"Um. That was boiling hot, you know." Russet points out.

"I'm a wizard."

Russet and I both do that thing when you realize something at the same time, look at each other and say "_Ahh._"

"Where are you going?" I ask, pouring another cup.

"Just to get zee mail. I'll be right back."

_Oh, I wonder if there is anything for me._

He returns shortly, his food awaiting him on the table, already cooled down and ready for consumption thanks to magick. We enjoy our breakfast and Papa slides me a letter from across the table. _Already? But it's only been three days._

I look at the script and my heart skips a beat. A lovely cream-colored envelope is handed to me. On the back it's stamped with a picture of iris flowers and the mailing address of the school is written down in a familiar script that makes my fingertips tingle- the front flap is sealed with an expensive wax brand. A single word written above it. "Lumina". _It's from him! Not the Headmistress, or the brownies, but him!_

I hide my giddiness and finish my lemon water before heading off to the living room to read it. Russet and Papa begin their usual chatter. I pluck the seal to open the letter, gently unfold the nice-smelling parchment and read the small, elegant handwriting:

"Dear Lumina,

I am pleased to hear that you are enjoying your break thus far. I had assumed that Russet and Mr. Atchung would attach rather quickly. I am not sure if I should be appreciative of their companionship, or concerned for my own well-being.

I would like to mention that I have heard of The Compass Crossways, as it is quite famous for its diverse, yet surprisingly affordable menu, as I believe the proprietors of the establishment aimed to reach to as many wizard cultures as possible- given their geography. The owners spare no expense, neither in quality ingredients nor excess of mana. I have never been there myself, but it is a renowned restaurant.

In case you are wondering, I am getting by here at Iris just fine. The days are stable, and the sizable lack of troublesome students allows me to catch up on my reading. Of course, the opportunity for a season-long vacation from the academy appears too unbearable for the delinquent students that attend my summer courses. Occasionally I surmise that they are hexed creatures- doomed to perish without the academy air and water to sustain them. Why else would they collect such a sizable amount of demerits that they would have no other choice but to live full-time at the academy?

But on to more pressing matters... I do recall the conversation we had back in the spring. I whole-heartedly support your decision to separate yourself from your mundane family. Based on your description and a few hints from the ramblings of Mr. Atchung, the relationship was not a healthy one. Petunia and I are willing to do the enchantment ourselves, however she did bring up a fair point that I wish to relay to you: Mr. Atchung is familiar with the spell, as he has performed the deed a great number of times. If it is your desire, and if he is willing- which I am positive he will be, especially for your sake, you could request that he be the one to erase their memories. Even as a retired Council Member, he is duly authorized.

As soon as the process is over, I expect an immediate notice. I shall end my notes here, with a few parting words:

I too, by the way, find myself wondering how you are faring. By no means should you consider even the small details of your day-today activities a nuisance to read, for you have my interest in that regard. I look forward to your reply

Yours- Hieronymous

I re-read the letter four or five times before wiping the cheesy smile off of my face. _So he's bored, and in an off-handed kind of way, he just admitted that he misses me. He's also concerned for me, because the parting from my family is going to be emotionally difficult. I should tell Papa about this._ I fold the letter and put it back in its fancy envelope. I store it in my dresser and go back downstairs to tell him what should be done.

"Guys?" I cut into their conversation.

"Ah, Missy. Need sometink?" Papa offers.

"Actually, I wanted to tell you what my letter said." I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. "Well, the instructors back at the academy are willing to do the enchantment. But they also recommended that I ask you first. So, um. Are you alright with being the one who erase's their memories?"

Papa doesn't hesitate. "If you vant me to do it, I'll do it. I don't mind."

I relax. "Thank you."

He speaks up again. "Vell, since I'm zee one voo vill be doink zee magick, it can happen much sooner. I am conveniently close. Zat and zere is no papervork to be done."

I huff. _None at all, because they already disowned me. I'm not in the system. He's right too, that's probably why they'd prefer he do it. Besides, who else could do it better?_ "What about my extended family? I haven't seen them in years, but they know I exist. Wouldn't you have to track them down too?"

He folds his hands on the table. "Zee spell is far more complex zan zat. It is a form of plague."

"How do plagues work?"

"After the spell has been cast, anyone voo comes in contact vith zem vill also be enchanted to forget. It'll spread. It'll only effect mundane people vith memories of you. And I vill send scouts if necessary."

_I get it, that'll save him tons of time. And me tons of worry._

"So. Venever you are mentioned or remembered, zee spell's effect vill take place. It vill grow stronger over time, until zee amnesia is permanent."

"Papa?"

"Yes Missy?"

"Could I go with you?"

He scratches his chin thoughtfully. "I could brink you. But you'd have to be cloaked and completely silent. Is zat understood?"

I nod.

"Vee vill go tonight zen."

I spend the day anxious and tense. I try to entertain myself but to no avail. I cannot focus on any books, play any tunes, and I try to sculpt the seashells into something with magick, but my attempt at art turns into dust under the stress. I don't try that hard for lunch, just a simple meal of hotdogs, which I don't partake in. I merely nibble on my dinner of spaghetti that night and Papa convinces me to drink something at the very least.

So I find myself here, with a cup of grape juice, sitting in the grass of the backyard. I'm admiring the night air, the chirps of the crickets and hoots of a nearby owl when Papa finally fetches me.

"Missy, are you ready?"

I nod silently.

He sits himself on the grass next to me. "You don't have to feel obligated to watch-"

"I know." I respond simply. _But this is something I have to see through for myself._ _No regrets._

Russet is left to watch the house.

"Do zey still live in zee same place?" He says as we get to our feet.

I frown. "Nothing has changed since the first day I met you."

He wrinkles his nose at that.

We walk to the center of the yard. Papa takes my hand, shuts his eyes and focuses intensely. When he hardens his grips onto his cane, I feel an incredible surge of power go through me. An immense gust of wind begins to form from underneath our feet, circling us and gaining speed. I clench onto Papa's hand as our feet are lifted off of the ground.

With a thunderous rumble, I feel myself being rushed at incredible speed. My mind has no time to process the absurd sensations enveloping my body and I feel myself being thrust this way and that. My organs flip-flop in gut, my hair splays all over my face and the I'm forced to shut my eyes from the stinging of the cutting air. We stop, and I let out the the breath I didn't know I had been holding. I open my eyes to a squint, catching a glimpse of dark water, smelling salty air. We land on something wooden. _We're at the docks._ Papa squeezes my hand tighter and the rush and light-headedness returns. Another stop, _we're in the city somewhere._ I can only catch the lights and sounds of traffic before being pulled into the air again. We stop once more and I would have stumbled to my knees if it weren't for Papa holding my up by the arm. It hits me all at once, a great pressure in the back of my skull that I assume is my poor brain being rattled and my organs finally catch up to me in what feels like a well-placed uppercut to my stomach.

_We're… At the front door... **Uhhhgh.**_

The familiar rusty, metal door stands before us. The knocker is gone, the lock is scratched, decorating the door are many questionable stains. I break from my stupor of nausea. I look to him, amazed.

"Zat level of Teleport I can only do vith one oser person at a time. But ven I am alone, I don't need to stop at zee docks after crossink zee ocean."

I wobble in place, still holding his hand, speechless.

"Vee are cloaked and silenced. I have made it so zat vee can only see and hear each oser."

_I can't do that. So this is what mastered magick looks like… Astounding... _

_No. _

_This is what the best blue mage in the world looks like._

We teleport inside. Creeping carefully, we stumble upon my younger brother first. He's fallen asleep on a chair, and he's left the television on. Papa points his cane to Mateo's head, who is snoring slightly, unaware of what is about to be done to him.

I can't help but feel a little remorseful, sneaking into their home like this, attacking their memories with magick while they sleep.

Papa recites the incantations. As he is doing this, I witness ghostly, swirling orbs appear that glow a menagerie of colors. They drift aimlessly, clustering around Mateo. The television reception breaks a little in static. _But they're not coming from Papa._

"I see floating lights." I whisper.

"I'm sorry, don't interrupt me." He orders.

I keep my questions to myself, while I let him concentrate. I'm alarmed when a few of those lights drift towards me, I take a step back.

"Papa! They're coming towards us."

He takes hold of my hand. "I've got you. Don't be afraid, I'm almost done."

The lights surround me, and I feel light-headed as one touches me, my vision begins to blur.

"Papa!"

The world is fuzzy and smudged. Voices echo, colors flash. All in a slow, smoky stream.

_I'm being picked up from school… Wait. I've never been to this school. I'm holding someone's hand. But it's not Papa._

I look up. "Daddy?"

_That isn't my voice!_

A tall man with brown hair, fair skin and emerald green eyes leads me away. I feel an overwhelming sense of admiration for this man. "Where are we going?"

His face hardens at my question. He drives us a long way and I fall asleep in my car seat. When I wake up, I'm being carried by him and we're in a strange place. Daddy leaves me behind with some police people who talk to me and play with me for a while.

I'm called right in the middle of stacking my legos to go meet with Daddy.

"Do you want to see Mommy?"

_Mommy?! Mommy's here?!_ "Mommy!"

He takes me to a grey hallway with chairs and big glass windows. There are people talking on both sides of the glass using telephones. _It's_ _Mommy! How come she looks so sick? And her tummy is bigger._

The already blurry scene, gets blurrier, until I'm somewhere new.

I'm with Mommy. I haven't seen her in a long, long, time. We walk until my feet start to hurt. _I'm not in my own body, I'm in his- I'm sharing his experience._ "I'm tired. How come Daddy isn't coming to pick us up?"

Mommy doesn't answer. When I finally get home, there's something on the living room floor, it's a... girl? She had her back to us, but looks over her shoulder, stands up and looks at the both of us a bit warily. Whatever she was whispering to herself she abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

"This is your sister." Mommy says mechanically.

_My sister?! No! I don't want her here! If you keep her, Daddy will go away!_

There is another flash of light and color.

I'm at a park now. I'm sitting in the grass. There is a little girl with tan skin and wild dark hair playing in the dirt. I feel… Bored. Almost annoyed even.

_Why is she even here? What does she want?_

The girl approaches me and invites me to play.

"_No!_ I don't want to play with you, I don't even like you!" _Go away! Leave me alone!_

And another flash.

"Could you help me, please? I lost my-" An older version of the girl asks.

"Do it yourself." I retort angrily.

A flash of light again.

"I want to show you something." She offers patiently.

_I don't want to see anything you have to show me._ "Stop bothering me!" I yell, aggravated.

It flashes once more.

The girl seems to be a teenager now, she's packing her things. _There goes Mom again, screaming at her as always._

She looks at me sadly, pleading, then Mom pushes her out of the door and slams it shut. _Finally! Good riddance! God, she was such a freak._

"N-ngh!" I grunt, clutching my head. "_Let me out!"_

The fuzziness of my vision clears and the smoky dreamworld evaporates around me.

I'm back in the dark room, Mateo is still asleep in his chair, the television has returned to normal, and there are no balls of ghostly light to be found.

_God, I feel so sick._

Papa catches me as I lean forward. "Missy! Are you alright?!"

I put a hand to my head. "I-I saw…"

"Did sometink happen to you?"

"Y-yes. One of those floating lights touched me. And then… I wasn't here anymore! I was somewhere else… No. I was _someone_ else! I think... I think I saw Mateo's memories."

"Vat exactly did you see?"

"I saw brief moments in his lifetime. I only saw a handful of our times together, but I wasn't me. I was him! I felt everything he felt. …And. It wasn't good."

He sighs and grumbles to himself. "Villow Visps."

"Willow wisps? They're real? But. What are they? What do they do?"

"Sose lights you vere seeink must've been villow visps. Zat's zee only explanation for vat happened to you just now." He takes my hand and lifts me up. "Nobody knows for sure vat zey are. Just zat zey are colorful, eerie orbs of light zat appear venever great vite magick is performed. Zey are also known to gaser vere spirits collect. Burial grounds, ritual sites and such."

"But, how come this is the first time I've ever seen them? And why here?"

"Zee visps are schrouded in mystery. Zee are not alive, but zey seem to almost portray sentience. Zey appear ven and vere zey vant. Zere have been a few accounts of people tellink us of seir encounter vith zem. Zat ven zey touch zee lights zey undergo out-of-body experiences. And osers experience short-term memory loss and nausea."

I sigh.

"Not all can see zem, even vith magick. But if you say zey are here, I believe you."

I bite my lip and look down. _So these willow wisps are a mystery in the magickal world. They're not living beings but they seem to be intelligent. Not everyone can see them, so I'm going to assume it's because I'm a white mage. And for those that can see them… They in turn, give you glimpses of other people's memories? But… Papa said they gather at strong spiritual places. Or appear because they are attracted to powerful white magick. My white magick is strong, why haven't they showed up before? And Iris… I can easily sense the immense power emanating from that place. The wisps would gather there, no doubt._

"Papa, do wards keep them away?"

He shrugs. "Zey could, or zey couldn't. Zere are only a few recorded sightinks. All in unvarded areas." He takes my shoulders. "Do you feel sick, or in pain? Do you feel weaker?"

"Not exactly? Just a little."

"I am not sure if zey are stealink mana from you. But Missy, if it happens again-"

I stop him there. "I can handle it. If the willow wisps appear again, I'll squeeze your hand really hard. Just… Don't let me go, I'll tell you if I see anything."

"Mmmf. Fine. But if you don't look vell, I'll be forced to send you home."

We peer through the door to Naiara's room. As soon as I walk in, my nose wrinkles at the musk of alcohol and nicotine. The room's floor is scattered with cigarette buds and empty beer cans. Loose articles of clothing are strewn about.

Papa stops dead in his tracks. I squint, my eyes adjusting to her slightly darker room. On her bed is a tangled mess of sheets, pillows and… bodies?!

Naiara is stark naked, asleep on her belly, slung over half of the bed with one arm and leg hanging down. In the bed with her are two men I've never seen before. Both of them older than her, fatter than her, covered in tattoos and really hairy. To my disgust they're naked too. The blanket barley covers the three of them, and none of their important areas to boot.

"Missy, go back! Don't look." Papa hastily pushes me from the scene.

I push him back. "_I won't look at them! Just do it!_" I say, turning my back to them. _Tch! It's not as if I haven't seen her like this before. She could have at least locked the door… Or closed it!_ I hide myself behind Papa, even though no one would be able to hear or see us anyway, just to rid myself of the view.

I can tell poor Papa is fiercely uncomfortable. He warily steps toward the bed, and I feel my foot squish against something, it isn't loud, but it feels weird. I lift my foot and stifle a squeal. _Is that a- condom?!_ I jump away. _It's not in its wrapper and it's stretched out!_

_Eeeew! It's used! Why is it on the floor?!_

Papa whips his head towards my distressed squeak and I can see the white of his eyes grow larger even in the dark. He pulls me away and cusses under his breath. It isn't until I'm squished against his own body, with his arm wrapped around me for protection that he begins the spell.

My eyes are darting across the room, eager to find anything to rest on besides the not-so-private but very intimate scene on the bed. _If only I could drone out their snoring._ A shimmering flash of color in my peripherals draws my attention.

_They're here._

I tug on Papa's shirt, and he in turn holds onto me harder. I'm nervous, but not afraid. _As long as I can get out of those memories, I have nothing to fear. But… Who's memories will they show me this time? I don't think I want to know what happened here. And Naiara…_ I gulp. _Am I ready to feel and see what she has in her head?_

The wisps drift nearer to me and I shut my eyes in anticipation. As my eyes are closed, the pitch blackness becomes blindingly white. _This is it!_

I feel airy and light for a few seconds, but as the white fades away into color and shapes, I feel solid again.

This is not me. I feel incredible pain. Sadness, anger, disgust. I'm scared too.

_Naiara?! I'm Naiara! Ugh… I feel so..._

I slump to the ground. I'm in a grey and white room. No windows save the one on the metal wall to my right.

_Where's the door?_

A thin slab of a bed against the wall, and a toilet fill the space. I crawl to the bed, feeling the worst I have ever felt in my life.

_My head is POUNDING._

I hear the blare of an alarm and I look towards the sound, the thick, metal wall slides away, and an officer enters to address me.

_Am I in... jail?!_

I can't see his face. He's so blurry, everything is blurry! His voice mumbles its way to my ears. "Come on, we have to get you checked."

_Checked, checked for what? And why aren't I feeling anything? These aren't Naiara's thoughts they're mine._

_ Unless she wasn't feeling or thinking at the time._

Two other officers flank the man. Both women. One of them takes my hands and puts them in… Cuffs?!

"No fighting this time, or you go back in the cell. Understand?"

I shrug away from her and cuss something in a slur, but the stone hard grip of the man makes me wince. I'm dragged to a medical ward and propped up in a chair. The doctor takes my blood, swabs my throat, which to our equal repulsion I slobber abhorrently. I'm told to pee in a cup, not with any privacy of course and I stay seated for what feels like a cold eternity. I'm cussing and swaying in my seat, feeling horrible, feeling violated.

Suddenly a burst of heat that rushes from the pit of my stomach to my throat, so large and fast I can't keep my mouth closed. I heave and vomit all over the floor in front of me. Coughing and panting and sweating. _Ughh…_ Just as I blink the wetness away from eyes, two feet come into view.

"Well, well, well. Just in time."

I zip my head up, violence and hate fill me.

"I'm sorry to say you're going to be doing that a lot from now on. You're pregnant."

_WHAT?!_

Suddenly the scene ends in flash of white.

_Wait, who is that?! What is he doing?!_ My thoughts are drifting. _Stop! Stop! Don't leave me! It's not my fault!_ It's the fair man with brown hair and green eyes. He's stomping across the room. Breaking glass, throwing furniture, cussing, screaming. I run to him.

"I'll abort it! I'll abort it! Don't leave me! DON"T LEAVE ME!" I scream in tears. I rush to embrace him, but he grits his teeth and slaps me hard across the face. I stumble to the ground.

"You stupid bitch! After everything I've done?! We were married, you whore! We have CHILDREN! I give you a better life and this is how you repay me?!"

I begin to sob as he heads towards the door.

The world flashes again.

I'm in a panic. _Where is it? Where is it? WHERE IS IT?!_

I claw open the medicine cabinet, _YES! There's one left!_ I hungrily pop open the orange bottle and shove the entire bottle's contents into my mouth. A sickening but familiar sensation engulfs me, I stumble to the floor and wait. In a while, my body begins to shake uncontrollably, and my heart begins to go haywire. My lungs are on fire, my stomach even more so. I begin to dry heave and I shortly hurl the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Over and over and over. By the time I'm finished, I'm sweating profusely and can barely keep myself up. I look down into the mess.

_Blood?!_

The world flashes once more.

_Get out of me. Get out of me. GET OUT OF ME!_ My belly feels swollen and hot. Like I'm about to burst. And my breasts are so heavy, they're throbbing in pain. I'm scratching at my pregnant stomach, gritting my teeth against the pain as I tear at the flesh, scabs break and blood begins to trickle. _GO AWAY! DIE! DIE! DIE YOU DEVIL'S CHILD!_

"She's doing it again!"

I scream like a banshee, kicking and flailing as he and a woman officer pin me down to strap me to the bed, I feel a syringe go into me. An icy, sharp pain and then my body fails me, the world goes dark.

I awake on my back, panting, unable to breathe. _Hot, hot… I'm hot. I'M ON FIRE! _The most unbelievable pain fills my nether regions. Like I'm being ripped open. It's only then that I realize the deafening screams echoing throughout the hall are my own. I'm being pushed on a rolling bed, many nurses running beside me.

"She's crowning!" A man in a mask and white coat yells.

Tears roll down my face, all I can do is scream. _Pressure, pressure, pressure! I'm going to die! Stop! Stop! Make it stooooop! I can't take it! I can't take it!_

"Push! Push!"

_No! I won't! You can't make me!_

"The baby's facing the wrong way!" A nurse yells.

_Kill it! Kill it! Get it out of me!_

I'm forced down, the pressure increases. I can feel my flesh and blood bursting, pouring down my legs the disgusting, rubbery sound of my skin stretching.

"We have no choice. Give her an epidural and get me a scalpel, we're going to have do a cesarean."

A great rush of cold fills my arm, but the brief reprise is cut short by the sharp, hot pain creasing my stomach. I scream in utter agony. The scraping noise of tearing flesh fills my ears and I can feel my eyes roll back in disbelief.

_"No more, please no more. Let me out! I don't want to see anymore!"_

But I'm not released this time, the entire scene goes white.

I watch a little girl with tan skin and dark, wild hair walk in circles. She's outside, talking to herself.

I look away in aggravation. _That twisted child…_

I walk back inside the church and I get down to my knees to pray. _Dear lord, our father in heaven, our holy king, I have been cursed by the devil. Save me, and my daughter. Forgive me for my sins, bring back my husband. I offer to you the girl, take her instead._

An elderly priest kneels besides me. "We have found you a place to live."

I rejoice and begin to cry. "Oh, merciful lord!" _I will do better. I will start over. I will find my love again and make him a deal. I will bless him with a son and I will give the devil girl away. We will be happy and free. We will start over..._

"ENOUGH! LET GO OF ME!"

I finally break away from the scene. I'm back in the dark room, clutching to Papa for dear life. I'm panting and I have fallen to my knees, a steady stream of tears raining down my cheeks.

"Missy, Missy! Say sometink!"

To my surprise we're not in the room anymore, we're in the hallway.

"You vere cryink, you vere shakink and mutterink nonsense! Tell me vat happened." He urges.

I slink into his chest, heart-broken.

"Shh. Shh. It's okay, you're safe. Take it slow. Talk to me, Lumina." He rubs my back.

I gather myself up and describe every agonizing detail of what I have just witnessed.

We sit there on the floor for a couple of minutes. When I begin to whimper he holds me close and shushes me, rubbing my back and shoulders. I squeeze at my thighs, and clench my legs shut, traumatized by what I just felt, even if it _was_ my own birth.

With a sigh, he helps me to my feet. "You need to rest."

"No!"

"Zat is enough Missy! You are goink home!"

"I want to go home! But not yet! This is my goodbye. There's only one person left. Let me finish this. Let me say goodbye…"

Irritated, he drags me by the arm to the last room. This one is locked from the inside, so he taps the tip of his cane against the knob and it clicks softly. When we enter, his grips softens at the sight of my sister.

She's fast asleep, and her large, swollen belly can be seen through the thin sheets.

I step towards her, mixed emotions fill me.

Cradled in her arms is a teddy bear I made for her years ago. She snores delicately, feigning rest. But I can see stress under her eyes, from tears no doubt.

I'm hesitant. _Can I handle any more willow wisps?_

_You… I always thought… You and I were the closest. Even though we weren't close at all. But compared to the others… At least you talked to me. _

"Sche'll give birth any day now." Papa announces.

_She will?!_ I look to him in distress. _And I won't be there. I won't be there to see my niece or nephew. I won't be there to help either. I'm sorry Yoana… But this is just as much your choice as it is mine._

I back away. "Papa… She's pregnant. Is it even safe to perform magick on her?"

He takes me in. "I've done it before. It isn't safe, but I have zee experience. Zee babe vill be fine."

"And her?"

"Sche vill be fine. I promise."

I take deep breaths. _Relax. Relax. You're safe, you're alive, and you're in your own body. It's almost over. One more time and then you can go home. Go home and snuggle with Russet, relax with Papa. Start that letter to Hieronymous…_

My heart stops._ Here they come!_

The wisps drift my way, I recoil, Papa remains firm, but they don't stop. I want to see, but at the same time I don't. _Maybe's that is why they show me these things. Because of the part me that's curious._

As the nearest wisps aims for my heart, I inhale deeply and think a thought towards it. _Please… Show me the truth. But make it brief._

As if it heard my plea, it gently swallows me in white. But not in a blinding flash, a slow, easy fade into brightness.

I'm on the floor. I must be very young, because I'm so small, and everything else is so big. I'm playing with my dolls. Mommy is yelling something in the other room. _She must be mad at her again. Why is she always getting into trouble?_

The girl comes back into the room. Looking agitated, but not the least bit angry or afraid. She looks at me and smiles, then shrugs at the wall, pointing to the next room where Mommy probably is.

_Why doesn't she talk? Is she slow?_ I go back to playing with my dolls.

New scenario.

I'm at school. It's lunch time. "Hey, Yoana!" A chubby, freckled, blonde girl with pigtails runs up to me. "Tasha is fighting that skinny, freak girl. And she's getting whooped! Come on, let's go see!"

_What? She's fighting again?_ The girl excitedly drags me to the hallway, but the fight has already been broken up. She's being carried off by a security guard, and the principal looks at me and frowns. The crowd of kids scatters to the cafeteria.

"Aww man! Did you see that?"

"Yeah, she got beat!"

"That girl is an animal! I bet she's got rabies!"

I hurry away, but the freckled girl returns. I get my lunch and eat my sandwich, worried about how much screaming Mommy is going to do when I get home. _All because of her._

"Oh my god, why didn't you tell me?!" She yells loudly.

Other kids at the table look our way.

"T-tell you what?" I answer.

"That killer girl is your _sister?!_ I heard she was going to_ kill_ Tasha!" She says even louder.

_Oh no!_

The kids at the table gasp, then they rush up to us.

"Woah, is it true?!"

"That girl is your sister?!"

"But you two look nothing alike!"

"Nah, Beth's lying. That girl is too ugly to be Yoana's sister."

"She killed Tasha?!"

_It's happening again._ _And because I'm the older one, they're going to think it's my fault! _

"Tell us, Yoana. Tell us!"

I run from the table and begin to cry. _She ruins everything!_

Next scene.

I'm nervous. Super nervous. _She's back. She came back. I thought Mom kicked her out. But she's here, why is she here?!_

"Hiya." She greets. "It's been a while, huh?"

_Is she going to be sharing a room with me again? I hope not. She always talks to herself, and she stares at nothing. She believes in invisible people and creeps around the house at night. Ohhh. I can't handle that again!_

"Um. I'm not going to be living here, but Naiara needs me to help around the house. If you need me, don't be afraid to ask."

Then it is over.

Papa hasn't even finished the spell yet, and I'm back where I stand.

I stare at Yoana. As the magick flows through her, I can see her features visibly relax- as if all of her burdens have been lifted. And she sinks into at last, what looks like a comfortable sleep. Her lips press into a small smile and she sighs in contentment.

It tears at my soul.

I clench my fists, shaking. Watching this is so painful, I can barely stand it.

A wisp pops up in front me. Then another. And another. More wisps float and fly around me, blinking in dimmed colors. Without thinking, I bow slightly, and whisper. "Thank you."

Apparently satisfied, the willow wisps evaporate.


	7. Chapter 7

With a great and heavy sigh Papa is finished. I look to him, amazed by the remnants of energy still left in the room. I'm stuck between being shocked by the visions the wisps have shown me, and the sheer powers of my grandfather.

"It is… Completely done." He says with a wipe of his brow.

I take his arm, my voice barely audible. "Thank you Papa."

"Missy?"

"Can we go home now?" I plead, more than request.

Noticing my change in demeanor he replies "Yes. Let's go home."

I pour some of my own mana into Papa, not wanting him to strain himself. He glances my way with a mix of a puzzled and thankful expression, then shrugs it off. A couple of dizzying teleports later, and we're back in the backyard of Papa's manor.

"Missy, do you vant to-?"

"I just… Want to be alone for a little while. I really mean it. I can't thank you enough." I say shakily, my back turned to him.

"It's quite late-"

"I know. I just want to sit down for a moment."

As if on cue, Russet comes trotting up to us through the grass. "Is all well?"

I smile weakly and pat em on the head.

"I'll be going now. But you should head to bed soon. You're not a browny, human girl." With that, Russet looks to Papa and raises an eyebrow before scurrying back to the house.

He still stands there, unsure.

_Perhaps I've been a little too cold towards someone who has done such a tremendous favor for me._ I rush up to him and squeeze his torso with all of my might. "I love you, Papa." I say, wetness gathering in my eyes.

He says nothing at first, just wraps a strong arm around me, then his other, until his large frame completely covers me. In a whisper he says. "And I love you, Lumina."

I don't know how long we were standing there like that. Everything I've ever wanted. He's gives so readily, so easily. _I think… This is all I needed… For someone to love me. That's the difference between him and them. With them, I was just surviving. Not_ _living._

We break, and he leaves me to my thoughts.

_And so the truth comes out doesn't it?_

_My younger brother vents his anger out on me because he blames me for his missing father. My very own mother despises me because my birth cost them her husband. Without him, they were poor and defenseless. My older sister... She was... Afraid of me. Because my existence caused problems in the home. _

_I had no idea how **toxic** I was._

_And the magick..._

_That's why Naiara thought I was cursed, why Mateo thought I was stupid and why Yoana thought I was crazy! _

_The whispers, the rumors, the awkward family reunions, why we were never invited to weddings or birthday parties... I knew it! I knew it was me! _

I cover my face with my hands and begin to cry.

_This never would have worked. _

Morning arrives, and I'd like to say I couldn't be feeling any better. School is out, I've visited Lori, I don't have to work this summer, and my old family is gone. I live in a new, big house with people who love me, I don't have to pay rent or utilities, and I can sleep in! No mail delivery, no magick exams that may or may not result in my maiming, and there's no way I can screw up anything _over here_, which would result in nullifying my marriage _over there_, which would _then_ result in my untimely demise.

_Yay! Right? But no. Not yay._

Last night I was assaulted by nightmares.

I lie there, still feeling groggy and tired. My body wants more sleep, but I for one, want to get up. After picking at my face and running my fingers through my hair, I stretch, yawn and sit up. I sleepily look out the window and to the streams of sunlight desperate to find their way in. With a wave of my hand the curtains part, warmth envelopes the room. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and look to my left, above the bedhead is my wreath, now sprouting tiny little fruits. I cradle the round, orange-yellowish lumps, and decide it is too early to partake.

_Smells nice, though._

_What am I going to do with this thing? And where am I going to put it? I really want to take it to school with me. Perhaps having the fae's blessing around would give me an easier school year to come. But that could result in accidental tragedy._ I cautiously run my fingertips over the sharp thorns, now longer and pointier. _It's so beautiful._ Then a trickle of power, leaving me giddy and tingly. _Hmm. Better safe than sorry, it stays here._ I stand up from the bed.

My other bedspread and charms are still left in the old room. According to Potsdam I'll be returning there every year. I even left my book collection behind, and the school supplies, including my crafting kit I practiced with at my desk. I only took with me my clothes, augments, and of course- this wreath. Russet thankfully charmed the magickal items, so they could not be detected by mundane eyes.

I brush my teeth, wash my hair, and give my body an extra thorough scrub-down before emerging to begin my day. I smell coffee already, so those two must be awake. I head downstairs to find Papa and Russet waiting for me.

"Guten morgen."

"Good morning, Lumie!"

"Hi." I approach the counter but stop to notice that they're already eating. Papa is having his morning coffee, and is eating rye toast with cream cheese. Russet is nibbling on a plain bagel. On the table is a bowl of mixed fruit and greens, with a steaming cup of herbal tea that I assume is for me. I point to the food on the table and then to myself in a questioning manner. They both nod. Shrugging my shoulders, I sit down and enjoy the simple meal. _So is no one cooking today?_

"How are you feelink Missy?"

"I'm alright."

"You certainly must've been tired. You almost missed the morning! It's nearly noon." Russet adds.

_Really? Then why isn't e sleepy?_ A sudden yawn from Russet dashes my thoughts. "Well, it _is_ summer break." I defend, not wanting to admit my insecurities.

With that, we chat lightly, nothing deep or particularly interesting. The weather, our plans for today, what we want to eat and such. Then we excuse ourselves from the table and Russet heads off to sleep. In the living room with Papa, I'm crouched in the armchair I favor, staring at him. He in turn, returns the stare.

"Are you gettink sick Missy?"

"Huh?"

"You look tired. A little pale. Do feel cold?"

"No, I'm sure I'm not sick."

He doesn't look like he believes me. "Perhaps you schould stay in today."

_That's not a bad idea, I guess. I don't really know what I want to do anyway._

"Papa."

"Yes?"

"Would you tell me more about yourself?"

"Ah. Vell. Vat velse is sere?"

_As much as you are willing to share. I practically handed myself over to you without thinking of how little I actually know about your personal life. I'm supposed to know you better than anyone else, and even with all of those years behind us, I know near-nothing about your past._ "Um. Well, to start. You're magick and you're foreign. You told me about where you come from, and how you grew up. But, I want to know how that works."

He scratches his stubble. "I don't follow. You know how a farm vorks, don't you? You herd zee scheep, milk zee cows, collect eggs from zee chickens, vater zee plants and fertilize zee fields-"

I shake my head. "I know that, but… How does a full-blooded magick family run a farm? And, what about your businesses? I'm confused as to what wizards can and cannot do in terms of the working world. I was told we're not allowed to compete with the mundane, and wouldn't _farming_ count as a pretty mundane job?"

Instead of pausing, or answering right away. He tilts his head back in laughter. "Ahahahah! I didn't sink you'd notice zee difference."

"I don't know what difference you're talking about."

"Ah, yes. Vell. Back in zee times of my boyhood, it vasn't so much of a problem to schare certain jobs vith mundane folk. It vas not a very technological time. And even now, zere are still magickal ranches and such. Zee only catch is zat you can't sell on zee mundane market. Zee same rules apply to my businesses. And as for my family. Vell… My mama vas vildseed."

"No way!"

He nods. "Yes. And sche vas as fiery and hard-headed as you Missy. Stole my papa's heart! So sche vas raised zee mundane vay. And it vas her family's land zat my papa took over for his descendants. It vas her inheritance, as an only child. As a newlyved couple, my parents decided to start seir lives togeser on zee ranch. And even sough my Papa vas zee head of zee household, vee all had to abide by _her_ rules. So ven it came time to vork, zere vas absolutely, no magick."

I lean in closer from my chair, eager to listen. "But, why not? It would make the work so much easier."

He smiles and wags his finger. "Ah. But zat's vere zee genius comes in. Mama vas a kind, gentle voman. But sche vas only strict on one sink: Never shirk your vork vith magick." He leans back in his chair and smiles, clearly reminiscent. "Magick vas fine and all for protection and play. Papa taught us all how to fight, and Mama taught us zee importance of healink arts. But vat Mama really vanted to instill in all of us, vas not a hestitance towards magick, but a _greater appreciation_ for it. Sche didn't vant us to be lazy, or incompetent vithout it. Vee fought her on it for years. But even Papa couldn't deny zat sche vas right. Sche didn't vant us to develop a prejudice towards zee mundane, or schould anytink happen... Leave us utterly defenseless vithout our magick. I suppose in zat vay, sche made us all better vizards. Includink Papa. And he admired her for it."

_Magick is natural, it isn't something that should be shunned or looked down on. But it does gives us immense advantage over others. And she's right. If you live your life completely dependent on magick, it simultaneously creates a crippling weakness. You don't need to have your magick stolen and your memories wiped to ever realize that weakness. Run out of mana and then what?_

He continues. "I understand vat you mean about vorkink zee land. It's grulink vork. And it's dangerous! But at zee end of zee day, vee turned out smarter and stronger for it. Vee developed an up-close and personal relationship vith zee plants and animals- zee land itself. Vee knew zee harvest, how to treat injured or ill animals, vee knew how to gauge ourselves- vat our bodies could and couldn't handle in terms of physical endurance. And it greatly tested our minds. Switching from freely usink magick, to suddenly havink to sink of a vay to get zee tasks done vithout it. And ven I ventured out to make my pilgrimage, as orc tradition- it vas beink raised zat vay zat saved my life on more zan one occassion." Papa closes his eyes.

"That explains it."

"Hrm, come again?"

"It explains why you're so comfortable here on your own, including before I came along. Why you don't think I'm a lost cause for being wildseed, and why you rarely use magick, even at home. I always wondered why you bothered to sweep the floor."

He chuckles. "Vell, yes. My Mama's iron vill is instilled in me. Of course not so much after all of zese years. I only _occasionally _sveep zee floor." He winks.

_ Now I know how he could be at home with all of the mundane appliances too. Based on my school experience, wizards probably don't use ovens, toasters, or microwaves. Do they even use phones?_

I tuck my legs in and hug them, rocking back and forth. "I want to know more about her. And your Papa and brothers too."

"Oh, do you? Alright. Vere to begin? I schould finisch tellink you about my parents. Ahem! Mama married my papa young, at sixteen. By the age of seventeen sche had started producink children. So as far as her childhood goes, it vas simple and short. Sche came from zee countryside and instead of goink to magick school, sche had a private tutor, a friend of zee family vith teachink rights- voo sche didn't know vas a vizard until her own magick popped up. At zis point in time sche vas fourteen. Papa on zee oser hand, vas older zan sche. Already eightteen. Zey actually met as he vas on his pilgrimage to fufill his family's tradition. He vas passink off as a traveler, if I'm rememberink zee story correctly, Papa saved her tutor's life in a freak accident. Even sough he had glamours put on him to look human, zee tutor saw right srough it. Zee tutor, in turn, offered to teach him rare magicks as gratitude for savink his life. Papa took zee opportunity, eager to return to zee tribe vith stronger magick zan zee rest. Papa lived vith see tutor, and discovered my mama as his young protégé."

He chuckles again. "Mama told me at first sight, sche sought he vas a pretty man, but did not like him in zee slightest. Sche found him 'cocky and stupid'- as sche said so herself."

_Ouch, so much for love at first sight._

"And Papa, sought sche vas a 'puny, spoiled brat voo did not belong under such an experienced vizard.' I tell you, zey _hated_ each oser!" He pauses to laugh. "And zey had such a rivalry, I tell you! Papa insisted zat sche must be a veaklink, for not only beink human, but also for beink a vildseed. Mama sought Papa's ego vas too big, and zat sche vas certainly smarter zan he, even sough sche vas younger and physically disadvantaged- sough sche vould not admit zat to him. Zey sabotaged each oser, argued and dueled constantly."

_Dueled?! As in magickally dueled?!_

"Eventually sose struggles and harsch lessons gave zem a mutual respect for each oser. Vich, over zee years, blossomed into a romance. And I'm sure you know zee rest. Papa became head over heels in love vith zee human girl voo could match up to an orc in combat. Sche vas brave, sche vas strong, and sche vas beautiful. I sink my Papa knew he vas outmatched, so he married her. And accordink to my mama, sche told me on zee day zat he proposed to her, he schowed her his true form. And he vas zee 'handsomest creature sche had ever laid eyes on.'"

_That's actually a really romantic story._

"Anyvay, zey vere married and lived happily ever after. And as for my papa. Heheheh. His tribe sure vas schocked ven he returned vith a vheelbarrel full of crops and a human voman!"

I giggle at that.

He goes on vaguely about the differences between him and his brothers. Their likes and dislikes, general appearance, what they're currently doing now. "Don't vorry Missy, you'll meet zem someday. I'll make sure of it."


	8. Chapter 8

It is after sitting a few more moments in silence that Papa speaks up again. "Sometink is on your mind."

"Uh. H-huh?"

He shakes his head."Missy, you're not zee type to zone out in broad daylight."

I flush. "Ah. Well, to be honest… I didn't get a restful sleep."

"And vhy is zat?"

I look at him, concern growing on his face. "The wisps. I-I was haunted by the wisps."

Concern turns to sadness, and sadness to frustration all in a matter of seconds. He rubs his face down with one hand and sighs.

Realizing my mistake, I quickly correct myself. "Oh no! They didn't _follow me_ or anything. It's just… The memories they showed me that night lingered in my mind. Which gave me nightmares."

An audible sigh of relief escapes his lips. Still, tension remains on his face. "I truly visch I had more information on zat matter. But, sose visps are somevhat of an anomaly to us. I have no idea how to handle zis, I'm sorry Missy."

"No. Don't apologize, you haven't done anything wrong. I just, I guess I'm letting them get to me."

More awkward silence.

_Now it's starting to annoy me, if I'm going to be spending all day indoors, it can't be like this._ Wanting a change of subject, and aware that there is nothing else either of us can add to the topic, I ask a question. "Hey, Papa."

"Yeah?"

"Your mother was human, and your father was orc. Was he, full-blooded orc?"

"Mhm."

"So, that makes you a half-blood. A direct hybrid of two different races."

"Mhmmm." He raises his eyebrows.

"I was just wondering how human blood can affect a lineage. In terms of appearance, I mean. At school, I've seen plenty of nativeseeds with traces of other races in them, and then I've seen it the other way around. Nativeseeds with traces of human in them. From what I've witnessed, those who are mostly human, appear human. Save a few obvious characteristics. But those who are mostly Otherworld beings look more fantastical than human. And I've met a girl who belongs straight down the middle. Directly, half and half. And her sylph traits appear far more dominant than her human ones. Honestly, even if she didn't have the wings, it'd still be hard for her to pass off as fully-human. I suppose she could dye her hair, but her pointed ears and slightly-arched eyes give her away."

"Ahh. I actually sink I know just voo you're talkink about." He chuckles.

"I was just wondering how someone like you, who is half-this and half-that could look so predominantly human. I mean, you have those little pointed ears, and your incisor teeth are noticeably sharp…" I point.

Papa grins cheekily. "To be blunt. You haven't seen me naked."

Caught off-guard by his brazen statement, my mouth drops open.

He guffaws. "Ahahahahah! You're so adorable sometimes Missy!"

My cheeks reddening, I puff. "You're such a dirty old man!"

Wiping a tear from his eye, he continues. "In all seriousness, zat is an important detail to brink up. I actually have striped skin." Before I can question whether or not he wears an illusion over himself, he stops me. "I have brownish pigmentations zat stripe my back and arch over my shoulders. I have some zat flank my thighs also. It ends zere. So because I don't vear particularly revealink clothes, you'd never see zem. If pusch came to shove, I could alvays pull zem off as tattoos. You vouldn't know zis, but my fingernails are much more claw-like zan yours."

I feel a little stupid for not noticing.

"Heehee. It's nice to know zat I can still surprise you. Sturm has markinks on his face and arms, so it's more of a hindrance to him zan zee rest of us. He, Thunda and Hurrican vere zee lucky ones to inherit horns."

_So… Horns are considered lucky, or attractive, maybe manly? I feel like everything that has to do with orc culture revolves around being manly..._

He yawns and stretches in his seat, I mimic him, feeling the urge to do the same.

"Now it's_ my_ turn to interrogate."

_Aw crud._

"Missy, dear. Have you ever _once_ met your father?"

_But I told him this already._ I shake my head.

"Do you even know his _name?_"

Again, I shake my head.

He slumps. "So zere is no vay of knowink if he is alive. I could send scouts…" He grumbles.

"No point. He's dead." I deadpan.

Papa bolts up in his chair. "_Dead?!_"

I nod. "I'm sorry, I was pretty sure I told you this a few years ago. But maybe we never got to that part? Just so you know, I've never encountered his spirit, but I know for sure that he is dead. Um. So what I know about my father is from what Naiara was willing to share. I know he was a drunken one-night stand, which resulted in me…" I feel a twinge of resentfulness. But one look at Papa makes me compose myself. "Uh. Based on her fuzzy description, he was Native-American. Long, black hair, brown eyes. Most definitely HUMAN." I thoughtfully add.

"He must be, because you are not a hybrid, like myself. But for years I've theorized you could be a cross-pip all along... Maybe you had some extensive magickal heritage from your faser's side you didn't know of..."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait... Cross-pip?"_ I feel like I've heard that term before at at school._

"Yes, Missy. A cross-pip is a halfling. Directly magickal and non-magickal parents."

"That's what it means, yeah! Most of the kids at school are cross-pips then."

"**No.** I am sure zey are _not. _Zey are most likely hybrids."

"Why not Papa?"

"Vizards are an absurdly small part of zee global population. _Human_ vizards even less so. In order, magickal society is predominantly made up of: _Oservorlders _(non-humans), _hybrids (_offspring of humans and Oservorlders; like myself), _scions (_vat vee call full-blooded human vizards), _cross-pips_ (half magick and half mundane humans) and finally _vildseeds_ (human vizards born to an entirely non-magickal family)."

"I... What? Why didn't they teach us this in school?"

"Because it is sometink zat is learned in zee home. It is not necessary to boil sinks down to zee bloodline."

"Because in the real world blood doesn't matter right? Like being mulatto?"

He sighs a pained, but amused sigh. "Yes... It vould be highly inappropriate to teach such sinks in a school environment."

"But I'm guessing there's more to than that isn't there? Social prejudices and such..."

"Unfortunately... Yes. I am glad you caught on."

"So why ask about my father? Didn't we go through this years ago? He was mundane. I never even knew him."

"How did he die? If you know." Papa says rubbing his forehead.

_Surprisingly enough, I do. With extra detail at that._

"He… Killed himself."

Papa slowly drops his hand from his forehead and opens his eyes in an extremely cautious and alert manner.

More ashamed of my father, rather than sympathetic for him, I continue. "I'll recap from start to finish: She said that I was an accident and that's why I looked so far apart from my brother and sister. She had a fight with her 'husband' one day, and left to go drinking. She got herself plastered, she wandered off with a strange man and had unprotected sex." Getting annoyed, my pitch changes. "To make matters worse, they were both so drunk, they had no idea they were OUTSIDE. When he was done he zipped up and left, leaving my exposed mother passed out in the street, by a dumpster, adjacent to the bar." Gritting my teeth now, I continue. "She was charged for public intoxication and indecent exposure. And thanks to the wisps- I know exactly what happened afterwards. She was sobered up, kept for a couple of days and tested to be positive for a sudden, unwanted pregnancy. This in turn, destroyed her current relationship, resulting in my brother and sister's father to abandon them in anguish. He threw them out, and my mother, not even twenty yet, couldn't fend for herself. After numerous failed attempts to get him back, which included her trying and failing to abort me- she developed an addiction to anti-depressants and pain killers on top of her alcoholism, and was put in rehab by my relatives. I was regretfully born and plans were made to give me up to the foster care system. But! She couldn't just throw me away without getting in contact with my father. There was an ugly custody battle- she wanted to dump me onto him, he wanted to leave me with her, the whole thing became a family scandal! It would turn out he has no other family, no siblings which would be my aunts and uncles and his parents were long-dead, leaving me no grandparents from his side. My mother's family would not take me in either, they all having families of their own to care for, while a handful were playing hot-potato with my mother's kids. From what she told me, it looked like she was going to win. He was at a legal standpoint where he was financially fit to support me, and aside from his reckless partying behavior, had no crippling reason that could excuse him from taking me in and being my legal guardian."

I bite my lip and close my eyes as I say this. "_So_… Rather than take responsibility for his actions and assume the role of fatherhood- he decided that **he would rather die.**" I don't tell him that he was found in his home, hung by his own belt. I hope he doesn't ask me where his grave is, because that, I do not know. In terms of inheritance, whatever assets he had left didn't go to me, they went to his debts- which thankfully, I'm not burdening.

I take a look at Papa. He is clearly shocked, having never fully heard the entire story. Over the years I have told him bits and pieces, but specifically worded them to avoid getting to this point. I can see his expression is also riddled with disgust. That only aggravates me further.

"**Dass Mutterficker!**" Papa shouts, startling me. "Euugh! I can't believe! I don't understand! I just- AAGH!" Papa bolts from his chair and begins pacing- well stomping, around. He runs his hands through his hair in stress. Then he whips around to me. "TO HIS OWN DAUGHTER!" He yells, arms open. Grumbling to himself, Papa continues to pace.

I get up. "No more, Papa. Sit down. It's all in the past."

I put a thoughtful hand on his shoulder, he reaches over to squeeze it. "Now I know vhy you vere alvays so quiet about zat. And about your MUM! To take out her anger on you! To blame _you_ for HER MISTAKES! I ought to-!"

"No!" I raise my voice. "I know it's unfair, and I know the story is nasty. I'm not proud of it… But it's the truth." I look at the clock, and realizing how long we've been idle, I make a suggestion. "It's a little past 5'o clock. Russet should be awakening soon, I'm up for getting something to eat." A monstrous rumble from Papa's stomach seconds that notion. I turn around to make my way to the kitchen, but Papa stops me.

"Don't cook. No cookink today. You're stressed and tired, and you've done enough. I'll order take-out."

The rest of the day passes by quickly, the food is ordered and hastily devoured. I'm left alone in my room while Papa bellows below to Russet about the history behind my existence. Russet has especially surprised me lately, because now I know e concerns emself more about my welfare than e lets on.

I'm sitting criss-crossed on my bed, munching on a small mountain of fortune cookies, passively skimming the fortunes and placing them in a neat little pile.

"The object of your desire feels the same about you."

_Yeah, sure. In my dreams. It's painfully one-sided._

"An admirer is concealing their affection for you."

_Well he must like something about me if he thought it was worth kissing me._ Then the memory resurfaces and it makes gush.

"Love is necessary to human beings as food and shelter."

_I agree with that, I think that's true…_

"Your worst enemy is secretly pining for you."

_My worst enemy? I don't really have any enemies. People I don't like yes, people who don't like me, most definitely. But if I had to compare that to him, then "pining" isn't exactly the right word. Hey, wait a minute! What's with all of these love fortunes?!_

It's one particular fortune that springs me into action. "An unexpected relationship will become permanent."

_…That's it, I need to write a letter to him._

I hop off of my bed and rush around for decent paper and pen. I dare not write to him in pencil, which is prone to smudging, but I also dare not write to him with scratched out grammatical errors, due to the permanence of ink. That is a cause for several sheets. As for the paper itself, he'll just have to settle for lined paper. _Excuse me_ for not having expensive parchment or a variety of stationary at my disposal. _Ain't nothin wrong with a good piece of lined paper- heaven knows without it my sentences would slant._ I have the right mind to keep the edges neatly torn off.

"Dear Hieronymous,

It is done.

I am sorry to say that it wasn't as easy to follow through with as I hoped. Mind you- I regret nothing. I was even there to witness the event.

Now I know what you are thinking- that is reckless and irresponsible. But I had full permission. I was merely a bystander. I suppose it was my silent way of saying goodbye.

As Papa was undergoing the spell, I experienced a rare anomaly. Willow wisps appeared in the area, and they were drawn to me. Or perhaps I was drawn to them. I truly believe it was a little bit of both. Papa could not see them, and to my surprise he didn't even sense them. I had to audibly bring his attention to the mysterious wisps. They did not interfere with the spell, but they affected me extremely.

They are the most hypnotizing sight I've ever seen. They glow like soft embers and they float like balls of smoke. I was circled and confronted by them, as if they were studying me. I felt something from them- I sensed a consciousness. The wisps do not speak, they do not emit sound or smell. But they are undoubtedly alive!

At first, the wisps slowly crept their way into me. As soon as they touched my flesh I was transported to another plane. I'm not exaggerating! Everything I relay to you in this letter is absolute truth. I cannot stress this enough.

One minute I was in a dark room, during the dead of night frightened, and facing these strange orbs I had never seen before. The next I was outdoors, it was bright, warm, and I was so incredibly small. My vision was fuzzy, my senses were warped, it all felt dream-like. This was when I realized I was not in my own body. I even looked different! I thought I was undergoing an out-of-body experience, but it was more of a body-switch. With my brother to be precise, he was the first to have his memories wiped. Only I was in a different time, in a different place, feeling everything he felt and seeing everything he saw. I saw a few of his memories, and I was him for a little while. When the ordeal was over, I saw a blinding flash and transitioned back to my proper self, back to my present time. Woozy and confused, but quite alright.

This process was repeated over and over with every family member. Papa would begin the spell, I would feel a strange sensation of being watched and the wisps would show themselves. The wisps acted differently for each spell. The first person, my brother, perhaps made the wisps passive. It is the best term to describe his feelings for me. Passive, uninterested, and a little bored. The wisps seemed to consider me a stranger -what I am to my brother- and once I noticed them, made their way over to check me out.

When the time came to deal with my mother, the wisps were relentless. They were swift and merciless, as were the memories they showed me. Her memories were what brought me to tears, to almost fainting actually. I was in immense physical and emotional pain. The memories were so full of rage, sadness, and a dark, deep hatred.

Finally, my sister. The wisps appeared unsure. I actually had to approach them first, to ask them to go easy on me. That seemed enough to satisfy them. I did not see many of her memories, but I felt so much fear, towards myself. I was her, and she was afraid of me. As her memories were being washed away, so was her visible stress. Once the spell was complete, I could see a faint smile on her face. Relieved that her biggest object of fear was ridden from her mind.

That was that. That is what happened, and I was utterly exhausted from the ordeal.

So there you have it, as promised, you are well-informed. Papa has assured me that my distant relatives will be affected by the spell as well, and he will send scouts for extra measure. Thank you for hearing me out.

-Yours, Lumina"


	9. Chapter 9

I read it over maybe a dozen times, and once I am sure I do not sound like an illiterate imbecile or whiny crybaby, I fold it evenly and slide it into a clean envelope. _I'll send this thing in the morning, now where are my stamps?_

Another restless sleep, and instead of rising late, I awaken extra early. Groaning, rubbing my eyes, I squint at my surroundings. The world is still dark. _What time is it?_ My eyes adjust to the dark shortly, my clock reads 3:34am.

"Uuuugh." I audibly groan. I sink back into my pillow, hands over my face. "Why does it have to be so eeearly?" I lie there, unmoving, trying to think. Nothing comes to mind. "*Sigh.*"

_This is reminiscent of my delivery days…_ Then I chuckle. "Might as well get up." I say to no one in particular.

Groggily lifting myself onto my feet, I drag myself to the bathroom down the hall and prepare myself for the day. I'm mindlessly standing in the shower when I begin to remember the nightmares which roused me in the first place. They surrounded me again, full of hate and anguish. They strike at me. They pull my hair, slap me, push me down, and kick me while I'm on the ground. My body won't respond, my mouth won't open. I cannot defend myself because for some cruel reason I am paralyzed, just like the first time...

I manage to snap out of it and find myself slumped against the tile wall, the shower pouring onto my face. I must've been dozing off. I scrub especially hard and add extra chilly water, hoping it will sober me up.

Slightly more awake and refreshed, and damn near sparkling, I emerge from the bathroom.

Russet is at my feet to greet me. "Lumie. I thought I heard water running, what are you doing up at this hour?"

I smile. "*Yawn* Actually I still haven't broken out of my morning routine yet. This happens every day, I usually lie there in my bed until I can force myself to go back to sleep. But this time, I decided to start the day early."

"Good for you. Should we start breakfast?"

I scratch my chin. "I'll get to it, as soon as I deliver this letter."

"Oh. But you simply _cannot_ be planning to deliver any mail without me. Are you?"

I shake my head. Then I bend down and offer my hands. "Of course not, you arrived right on time." E climbs up my arm to sit comfortably on my shoulder and I retrieve the letter while slipping on a pair of sandals. There is no chatting this time. Just peaceful silence, as I walk down the stairs, open the front door and quietly slip the letter down the chute.

Now back in the house, _what should I make for breakfast, and in Russet's case, dinner?_ I'm trying to be as respectful as possible, as to not make a clamor of clattering dishes and pots. I get my tools and vessels ready, then rummage through the fridge. My eyes spot something familiar.

"We _still_ have leftover potatoes?" I whisper to myself.

Russet heard that. "Wheee! Let me see! Those potatoes must be there for me!"

There's only a handful left, they're quite large, but still not many in number. Russet drags the potatoes out of the fridge and places them on the countertop, and I know I'm going to have to eat SOMETHING WITH POTATOES AGAIN. I'm looking for a protein, and hopefully some other vegetables for me when I spot another something familiar.

I sigh softly and slap my forehead. "We still have one more sausage to go."

This makes Russet happier. "Haha! Verwildert has excellent tastes."

_ Well here we go, this was partly my fault._ Papa loves the combination of the two and I wanted Russet to try the different types of meats we had- that, and I wanted to showcase my cooking skills. _Fine. I'll somehow manage to make a creative dish out of these._

"Which one is that? It looks tough and skinny. And it's so dry."

"Landjäger." I identify.

"And this one is?"

"Kind of like jerky, but a little more tender. And this one is spicy, I tell you. See how deep the color is? That, my friend, is the color you get from seasoning a meat in red wine, sugar, caraway, mustard and white pepper. I can boil it to make it softer if you'd like."

I give em a piece to sample.

"It's so good, I can't decide."

"I'll chop it up into even bits and simmer it with the potatoes to make a hash. I should add carrots, onions and celery too. Oh, and I must add garlic of course, a light coating of olive oil to cover the skillet. Anything else? No. I don't want to lose the flavor of the sausage, that's my main source of seasoning…"

Russet licks es lips. "That sounds like the greatest idea you've had yet!"

_Thank you, thank you. As for myself, I'll have to cook a separate batch, include extra spices in addition to some beets for flavor and gumption._

"I'll get the coffee started, perhaps that will wake Verwildert up."

_If the smell of my home-cooking doesn't, I don't know what will._

While we're waiting for the potatoes to boil, I chop the meat and vegetables. A dreamy sigh from Russet catches my attention.

"Hm?" I don't mean to ask.

"This is heavenly." E says, not paying attention.

"Huh?" I blurt.

"Oh. It's just that I particularly favor sunrise. This time of the day is the most alluring to me. The birds begin to chirp, sleepy animals rise, dewdrops fall and the sky dims a brilliant mixture of blues. The day is reborn, you could say. It's a time bursting with activity, but all remains peaceful and quiet. It's so dark, yet I feel so bright inside. This time of day is a gem for the earliest of risers."

"I know just how you feel. It's one of my favorite times of day too. I equally enjoy sunset as much as sunrise. The two dualities, just like night and day. I feel like these short moments don't get enough recognition. But you can blame them? Humans are diurnal, not crepuscular like you. Sunrise is quaint and dim, but it brings me ease, the day has started but I don't have to rush or really do anything yet. I can relax and enjoy the world to myself as everyone else sleeps. Sunset is bright, not as quiet but just as calming. It's the time where everyone else is busy preparing to end their day. People head home, clean up, or finish their work."

The mood in the room gets very cozy. I hear a stir upstairs as soon as I get the food in the pan.

"Lumie, you look tired."

"What was that Russet?"

"Your eyes look puffy. How about a cup of coffee?"

_Do I really look that terrible?_ "Um. Why not?"

A mouth-watering scent engulfs the kitchen.

"So how have you been feeling of late?" Russet questions.

"I'm alright. Tired, but alright." _And I'm getting tired of being asked this question._

"Ever since you came back with Verwildert two nights ago, you haven't been the same. You look especially tired, and you seem distant. Are you lost in your thoughts?"

"Ah. You've caught me. I'm still stressed about what happened. Papa did fill you in, right?"

"He told me everything. Aren't you happy here? Why does it still bother you so?"

"Oh, Russet. Of course I am. I'm just a bit bitter I guess. That, and I saw and felt things I shouldn't have."

"You're talking about the will-of-the-wisps."

"Y-yeah. Do you have anything to tell me that I may not know already?"

E frowns. "I only know as much about them as Verwildert does. But I can tell you one thing: I've seen them."

"_You have?!_" I say a little too loudly.

"Yes. Long ago, when I still lived in the Highlands. Wherever the wisps gathered I was sure to steer clear from. They congregate in the most dangerous of environments. Ancient sites of magickal practice, or during dark rituals. The most treacherous of fae are known to be surrounded by them. Some say they are the lost souls of the dead. So far gone that they only hang by a thread of consciousness."

I'm confused. "But, wouldn't that make the wisps… Wraiths?"

"No. It is just one of many, many theories. If you had encountered wraiths that night, you wouldn't be here today. Neither of you would, I'm sorry to say." Russet continues. "Others say they are pure orbs of mana, to be used as a sort of power source. And I have even heard that they represent the souls of deceased animals." E sighs. "No one knows for sure. They appear so rarely, that most wizards have never even seen one. They are legends, even to us."

"But I thought all sources of legend hail from the Otherworld. That they are truths to us and tall tales to the mundane."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Legends are _riddled with truth_ Lumie. Not entirely to be taken as the whole truth. You must learn to differentiate the two."

"My bad."

Papa's heavy footsteps can be heard against the sizzling of the hash.

"Look who woke up." I point out with a smile.

My grandfather enters the kitchen. "Guten morgen." He greets sleepily.

"Guten morgen." Russet and I repeat.

He kisses me on the forehead. "Zat smells delicious Missy."

"It's done. So grab your plates so I can serve you."

"Did you send a letter to Iris yet?" Papa reminds me.

"Already done, Russet and I did it together."

"And just vat vere you doink up so early?" He asks again.

Russet and I glance at each other. "I couldn't sleep."

He grunts in further understanding.

Russet heads off to bed and once again, it's me and my grandfather left to enjoy the day by ourselves.

"Vere you havink bad dreams?"

_Ah?! How could he guess so easily?_

"You look stressed. And I can only assume sometink like vat happened zat night vould give a girl nightmares."

"Y-yes." I admit.

"My poor girl." He laments.

Silence…

"Vell, come on. Go get dressed."

"Where are we going?"

He stretches and cracks his back. "To zee grocery store. Vee need more food, I haven't bosered to restock in over a month. Besides, I have some errands to do. Join me."

We leave Russet a note on the table and I slip into a pair of ripped jeans, sneakers and a graphic tee. Papa and I go grocery shopping, collect his wages from the bank, sort them accordingly, and return home to begin a full-blown-house-keeping adventure. It was my idea. Russet joins later in the day. We pick up the entire manor the old-fashioned way, save for Russet on certain tasks, who wouldn't get anything done otherwise. We do take a break for lunch, sandwiches and lemonade made by yours truly. We're all tired, yet oddly satisfied by nightfall, and decide to eat whatever it is the fridge to satisfy our needs, instead getting up to cook an entire meal.

"What made you decide to do that?" Russet asks us.

"Missy felt zee need to spiff up zee house." Papa states with a wipe of his brow.

"Again with the mundane methods. Phew! I don't know how they do it." Russet pants.

"Just like we did, but every day for the entirety of their lives."

"Aggh! I don't think I can stand it!" E groans.

_It gave me something to do. Today was a day to be busy. To not think about the nightmares, to not think about the people who source them, and to more importantly, get my mind off my husband/professor. I miss him terribly. I want to see him. I want to know what he is doing. And I wouldn't mind another kiss. Oh Lumie, just try to enjoy your break._

Papa and Russet head off to do their daily bonding, while I seclude myself in my room. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't feel like having fun. I just want to fall down and go to sleep. But I'm afraid of going to sleep.

_No! Don't be afraid. There's nothing to be afraid of. Stupid, Lumie. Go to sleep!_

So with that, I undress, wash up and turn off the lights. I tuck myself in and close my eyes. Drowsiness washes over me seamlessly. Unfortunately, rest, does not.

This nightmare is different. It's unsettling and uncomfortable. But completely mute. The world is colorless and grey. I'm not being assaulted and I'm not being ridiculed. I'm alone. Lost. I'm walking through endless landscapes. Deserts, mountains, forests, swamps. Every area I traverse, I also come across a familiar figure. Naiara, Mateo, Yoana, a few of my old bullies from high school. They scowl at me, or look away in haste, some look afraid and others are shocked to see me.

I keep walking by.

I confront Lori. Which makes my heartbeat rapid. Her stare is empty, soulless, devoid of feeling. It hurts me the most. I open my mouth to speak but no sound follows through, I must be mute as well.

I see people from Iris now, Potsdam, the brownies, Virginia, Ellen, Donald, Minnie, Jacob, the twins… With them I am greeted and comforted, and color faintly returns to the world. I regret having to leave them, very much wanting to stay. But my legs keep moving.

Then I see Papa. The world is bright again and he opens his arms to embrace me. I run to him, completely joyful, feeling that my journey is over and the world is finally fixed.

Instead, the world around me melts, and the colors distort. Papa remains firm, but something is very wrong. He is stuck in his position, a smile plastered on his face, arms still open, awaiting my entry. I cannot reach him. I'm running and running, and running, but I'm not going anywhere. Papa too begins to melt. Flames erupt in the background. Smoke billows, embers fly and flicker. I want to scream, I want him to get away. _It's dangerous! Papa, watch out! Run, run to me! I can't reach you!_ At least, that's what I would say, if I could speak.

Still he stays, devoted and patient. Burning, melting, singed away piece by piece. Tears fall from my eyes now, and with every fiber of my being I want to shout, I want to MOVE. Faces appear in the smoke and embers. Angela, Kyo. And in the very flames, Damien. They laugh and cheer at my panic. _No, no, no! PAPA!_ …He erupts into flames, shrinking into a grotesque mass of charred flesh, until he is nothing but ash.

The chaos subsides and I am left with the remains of my grandfather. I cry, I scream, I fall to my knees in utter disbelief. Just as I reach the very depths of sorrow I feel a sensation in my spine. A painful and sharp prick, then immense chill. That of falling. And sure enough I am. I am falling into a black pit of nothingness, away from my grandfather. I can feel my body going cold, my limbs numb, my mouth slack and my eyes heavy. It's getting hard to breathe. The abyss which I find myself falling down is closing in from all sides. An enormous pressure hits my core, like I am being both crushed and pulled apart from every angle. It's _unbearable._ _It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!_

Then it stops… I am weak, unable to move. But I am no longer falling. I am floating. Gently, I am placed down onto something soft, warm. It makes me feel safe. I cannot see, all is white now. I hear a voice. "Lumina." The familiar British accent urges me to awaken.

"Yah!" I bolt up from my bed. I don't move, unsure of myself. _Where am I? What happened?_ I let it all soak in. _I'm in my bed, in my nightwear. In my room?_ "*SIIIGH*" I exasperate, falling back into my pillow with relief. "It was just a dream. Just a… Horrible, horrible dream." I whisper to myself.

Still shaky and woozy, I rub my temples. Once again, I find myself wondering why. _Why does this keep happening to me? What does it all mean?_ I snuggle myself under the covers, curl up into a little ball and take deep breaths. I stay like that, but find myself unable to go to back to sleep.

"Arrgh!" I grumble and growl. I toss the blankets aside and begin my day. _Extra early_ by the looks of it. It's only 2:10 in the morning.

The rest of my day is typical. I decide not to cook and let them feed themselves, feeling uninspired to do so. That particular dream bothers me all day, and the other two leave me to my thoughts. I wander around the house aimlessly, sit in the backyard for hours on end, and I lightly snack on things rather than help myself to a full meal. I'm mindlessly tapping on the piano keys, unable to recall a tune when Papa taps me on my shoulder.

"Bored?"

I nod in agreement.

"I von't boser you. But I vant you to see zis."

I turn around. _It's a book._ He hands me a large, tanned-yellow binder-looking thing. It has no label, but it does have pins and stickers and stamps on it. I open it up to find myself delighted. "It's a scrapbook." I say happily.

"Zat's right. It's ours. Perhaps it vill help take your mind off of sinks." He pats my back and exits the room.

I rise from the piano stool and seat myself in my favorite chair. Then I begin skimming the pages.

I bring a hand to my mouth, deeply moved. _It's us! There we are. That's us when we first met, after my first week of lessons. And there we are at the park! That's us when we got caught in the rain, and when we took a stroll in the snow. Here we are at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade._ Also imprinted into the book are mementos of each particular event. Flowers, coins, flat stones, feathers and leaves. _There we are at the zoo._ I keep flipping and flipping, nostalgia hitting me hard. It doesn't make me sad, it makes me smile like an idiot. As I turn each page, I go forward in time. _I remember that Yuletide. Hehe. Oh, that fruit cake tasted so gross. How did I not notice all the pictures we've taken together? Has he really been keeping track that long?_ I stumble across a few pictures of myself._ I wasn't aware of these, I'm not looking at the camera._

I see a sad little girl, sitting under a tree.

Then I see the same little girl, a bit older, staring blankly out of a rainy window.

A younger version of the girl is fast asleep on her favorite chair.

Here she is- where I am, poking my feet into a river.

This is a picture of me from behind, walking far ahead, alone.

I find the most recent addition to the album, laden with sea shells. It's us at the beach. I'm left feeling truckloads better than when I started the day, and even though I don't get much sleep. I am not visited by nightmares.

Aside from this nightmare, my break persists. I'm still not getting enough sleep, though. I spend the majority of the night tossing and turning. I keep fretting about it. About my last nightmare, and about every little thing I can nitpick at really. My past, my time in school, my strange powers, the willow wisps, the marriage…

Within the next week, aside from my restless nights, I relatively enjoy my vacation. Now free from the shackles of potatoes and sausage, we enjoy a variety of tasty dishes. Some days we have sandwiches and salads, other days we eat pizza and fries. We enjoy Chinese takeout and halal food, and occasionally enjoy desserts like ice cream and shaved ice. The three of us tell jokes, exchange stories, take walks and enjoy quiet time indoors.

In between that time I receive a response from Professor Grabiner, filling me with giddiness and anticipation. _Not that I can let Papa or Russet see that side of me, of course._

I struggle to finish my breakfast without looking like I'm in a hurry. With politeness, I excuse myself and when out of sight, rush up to my room, hop on my bed and giggle girlishly to begin reading my letter. _I'm such a fool. What the girls would say if they saw me behaving like this! Heehee. Good thing they're not here._ I inhale the scent of fresh parchment and open the letter.

"Dear Lumina,

I would first like to apologize for my delayed response. I can assure you, were it not for my especially busy schedule of late, this letter would have reached you at least three days earlier. I have been covering the remedial courses for Petunia nowadays in her place, save the white course. You can expect a response within the week from now on. Excuses aside, I have thoroughly read your previous letter, and found myself having to scrutinize it multiple times. The anomaly of which you experienced is one so rare, I had to engage in extra research to investigate the matter. I am afraid I was unable to find useful lore or current data on the matter of the wisps, but I shall persist in my research.

What I believe you had undergone whilst accompanying your grandfather can be described as a form of possession. As you must be aware of, spirits can occasionally possess objects and to a lesser extent- living people, if they are powerful enough. I theorize based on your vivid description, that willow wisps are a primitive form of spirit creature. Those that possess a very simple consciousness, ruled mostly by instinct. If what you recalled isn't merely fantasy, then I can also theorize that the wisps are naturally drawn to great gatherings of energy- white magick to be precise. This is stated in the loggings that I was able to find, and that is probably due to the immense reaction paranormal activity generates. Your interactions with the wisps made me question the nature of their existence, but their queer behavior is what led to my next thesis:

The willow wisps gather in areas of great magickal power, and in turn absorb the surrounding environment. With the absorption of this energy, the wisps also inherit the initial memory of the space. This is a common side effect held by many artifacts, and one of the drawbacks to ritualistic practices. If someone with an affinity for white magick were to approach them, the wisps may in turn reveal memories directly connected to the individual. But this is a symbiotic relationship, exposing past memories costs mana. Therefore, the willow wisps will deplete the individual of some mana in exchange for a viewing of the lost memories.

This would explain the specificity of the memories you were relayed, and why you were able to relive them so convincingly. That also explains why you would feel ill and weak afterwards, as it is a matter of give and exchange. Delving further into the issue, this may pose a possible explanation as to why not just anyone can see the wisps or make contact with them. It would explain why they gather in the first place- that is, to obtain mana, which stabilizes their existence. It also explains why they would even bother with other beings at all, given they have a consciousness, it would also mean that they are capable of making decisions. If the wisps have nothing to relate the individual to, they have no reason to show themselves. Lastly, it would explain to us why they cannot be summoned or contracted, like normal spirit folk. I suppose this could be possible, but only if the wisps were to make first contact, and if the bearer had a means of harnessing their power.

This is all I could gather on the subject, but I am nowhere near finished with my studies. The ideal scenario would be to lure willow wisps to a specific location, and by the means of a ward, hold them captive long enough to engage in rigorous examination. Alas, I have recognized potholes in my theory. For one instance, it is unclear as to whether or not white mages alone can attract the wisps, on a human standpoint. The recorded sightings of the wisps all derive from the testimonies of white mages and Otherworld denizens. If that were not the case, perhaps they would be a much more common sighting- that however does not explain why some of the testimonies hold stories of seeing strange visions and suffering from amnesia, while others only recall seeing the wisps float around and nothing more.

It is here that I find myself at a standstill. With that, I hope you are well, and I advise you not to let the encounter bring you stress. It was a chance meeting, and nothing more. It will likely, not ever happen again. Before I conclude this letter, there is a serious matter I must inform you of before I forget:

When you return to the academy, Petunia has instructed that you only engage in your studies solely using a catalyst of your choice. You will be prohibited from using magick otherwise. You are not under oath, so should an emergency situation make itself apparent, you are excused from this rule. This is a trial period, only to be tested out for the entirety of the upcoming school year. She and I are both curious to see if you are even capable of wielding a wand. This does has it disadvantages, for you will be held fully responsible for any failures during the course of your school career. This is not up for debate, it is already decided.

Yours- Hieronymous

P.S. I would keep close watch around Petunia. She has been quite anxious of late, even more so when you are mentioned. I do not yet know what is bothering her, but it makes her wary of me as well. Normally I would not see the issue even worth mentioning, as I can only presume she wishes to meddle, but she has been participating in individual study, spending a large amount of her time consorting with those brownies and logging from books in her personal collection. That collection being restricted to everyone but the instructors at the academy- dangerous and ancient knowledge. From the decade I have known her, she is not one to use her free time to dabble in such things. I will keep you posted."

The letter leaves my mind blank. I read it again. Taking a breath, I set it down on my lap.

_His theory is almost solid, and that's based on my description alone- not firsthand experience. I hope he can find something else, even if it's just one more thing._ _So he has his hands full I see. And The Headmistress… What is she up to?_ I shiver. _I hope I'm not in trouble. I mean… I have to use a wand?!_

"Aaaargh!" I pound my fists on the wood of the bed._ Sophomore year is going to suck!_


	10. Chapter 10

_At least his letter assured me that I won't have to wait so long for a response. I can expect a reply within the same week now. So does that mean he's eager to hear from me? Ooh, I hope so. But that is for another time, I need to head back downstairs and talk to Papa._

"Papa?"

He meets me at the foot of the stairs.

"What did your letter say?" Russet asks from atop his head.

"They are informed of the process, and I mentioned the wisps to them. A lot of study is being undergone, but I've been told not to worry about it. It's a rare experience, and nothing more according to them. It's not like it's a bad omen. *Sigh* but there is one piece of bad news."

They alarm.

"The Headmistress wants to observe me. So upon my return to Iris, I am prohibited from spellcasting unless I use a catalyst. And it's not negotiable."

Russet gasps. "Petunia must be concerned if she would order something drastic like that."

"Hmm. Zis is troublesome." Papa says while scratching his chin.

I frown. "There's nothing we can do about it. I'll just have to try my best. The worse part yet is that any failures on my part are still held accountable."

"Vat?! How can zey allow sometink like zat? Zat is like punischink a chicken for not beink able to fly!"

"Now, now, Verwildert. I'm sure Petunia has her reasons. Remember that she is a free-spirit herself, and she would never clip someone's wings for being different. She must be trying to put pressure on Lumie, hoping it will her awaken her hidden potential."

I can only hope so myself.

"Zen, vee vill use our time visely."

"What do you mean by that, Papa?"

He stands tall and straight. His eyes go hard, and his mouth tight.

_Oh no. TUTOR-MODE._

"Missy, I told you before zat I planned on makink you my apprentice, and I vill."

My heart suddenly leaps.

"I wanted to give you an official apprenticeschip after you graduated, for zen you vould have my undivided attention. But zat doesn't mean vee cannot practice in zee meantime. I'll save teachink you my special techniques for ven you are older, as for now: Vee need to get you accustomed to usink catalysts!"

Instinctively I straighten myself and shut up. I nod in response.

"Change out of sose pajamas and brink your vands vith you. I vant you dressed, prepared, and outside in zee backyard no less zan in five minutes!"

Another curt nod and I'm rushing back upstairs again.

I fly out of my sleepwear and into stretch pants, sneakers, and a tank top. I pull my hair back into a ponytail, then rummage through my bag for my wiggle wand. A ludicrous-looking wand that more resembles an infant's rattle with a plush orange, polka-dotted octopus on top. It's incredibly cute, and unmentionably embarrassing. The star wand is slightly less childish, but as I recall I turned it into a pile of dust. I don't bother with the stairs, I slide down the railings and hop to my feet, then bolt out the back door into the yard.

I shut the door behind me only to be greeted by an enormous serge of power.

The blast pushes me back a little, and my senses overload with magick. Squinting, I see my grandfather appear in his signature mini-tornado, complete with sparks. He is dressed differently now, no longer in his robe and slippers. No. He is dressed sharply in a neat, yellow-striped buttoned shirt. Khaki slacks, light-brown loafers, with his imposing staff firmly grasped in his right hand, the other behind his back.

He looks me over, unfazed and emotionless. "I believe you own two vands." He says with a raise of his eyebrow.

I quickly untie my tongue. "I broke it, Papa."

"Bring it to me."

"Uh, I left it-"

"Sich beeilen!" He orders.

I run back upstairs, hoping I won't get penalized for not teleporting instead. I return with the remains of the wand in a little sack. He retrieves it from me, not commenting on my mode of transport.

He grips his cane and hums under his breath. His right hand glows faintly, and the sack wriggles and writhes as if something alive were in it. I can hear a cracking from within the bag, and when he hands it back to me, I can the feel the wand inside of it. But it's not poking out of the bag, how can that be? Full-sized it doesn't fit in here. I reach into it, and sure enough, I pull out the long, shiny star wand. My eyes go big.

"Blue magick, is zee alteration of essence. Everytink in zis vorld, can be changed. You only need to broaden your perception." Papa lectures, a sly grin on his face. "Behold." He slashes his cane across the air in front of me, it develops a blue and black glow. In that same instant it transforms into a sword.

I quickly step back and all the air in my lungs escape me.

The gleaming blade is pointed in my direction.

"Ahah! Good reaction, Missy. You're reflexes are scharp."

I hear Russet gasp from the safety of a nearby tree. "What on Earth is he doing?!"

"Beginnink today, you vill be learnink how to veild a veapon. Your vand is your veapon, but is it your veapon of choice?" He paces around, circling me, sword still pointed at my face. "In order for you to find your selective catalyst, vee must first train you in zee martial arts. Vands and staves are universal. But not to everyone… At least. Not to you. If you cannot adapt to your vands, zere are alvays oser options. Remember zat! _I_ specialize in staves and swords." He raises the sword to his face, erect. He then slides his palm down the side of the blade, it glistens in the sun menacingly. "Let us see vat you can do." Papa says darkly.

With a shout and a lunge, he dives for me. I quickly leap out of the way.

"Ready your veapon!" He shouts.

I draw my wiggle wand, tossing the star wand to the side. With ferocity and speed he slashes his sword over and across me. I dodge, I leap, I spin on my toes.

"Excellent, you know how to dodge. But you vill still have to fight me!"

He's so swift and precise with the blade, I cannot even hear anything else besides the cutting of the wind. My heart is leaping out of my chest, my breath is still, I don't even think I've blinked yet. He lifts his sword up high, leaving me a clear opening. I try to cast a small spark in his direction, but all I get is an annoying jolt back into my hand.

"Ouch!" I cry out.

"You've missed your chance." He corrects.

I have to bend backwards, matrix-style, almost snapping my spine to avoid his heavy blade. He's so strong he wields a two-handed broadsword as if were a foil. He paces back, pushing out his blade horizontally, in a defensive manner.

"Come at me!"

I whip the wand around my head and flick it forward, urging a fireball to come forth.

But I get nothing but a comical sizzle.

"Hrah!" He grunts.

I have to bite my tongue from saying a foul word no girl should say in front of her grandpa, falling to the floor to avoid his blade. He plunges the sword down towards me, and I roll over on the grass to avoid it. With the short two seconds it takes for him to sheath his sword from the ground, I take his vulnerability to my advantage. I fling my arm forward, willing a gust of air to hit his face. Harmless, but if it works, its progress.

Nothing.

He points the sword at me once more, stomping in my direction.

"Don't try to free-cast Missy. Use your incantations. Follow zee rules."

_He's right. I'm not even supposed to be on the level where I can mentally-cast yet. _"Push!" I try again, pointing the wand at him.

The wand goes flying from my hand instead.

Papa runs towards me. "Retrieve your veapon!" He bellows.

The sword swipes downward, and I hop over it, running past him to quickly swipe up my wand. _Accursed thing!_

"Break it down, use zee basic mesods." He jogs towards me again.

I side-step and twirl to avoid him. When there is enough distance between us, it gives me about three seconds to cast. With my left hand I direct the wand, and with my right I draw out the symbols, summoning my mana. I feel it tingling in my fingertips.

"Slash!" I command.

Just as Papa is about to strike me, there is a cut in the air, followed by a surge of magick. Only it isn't as intended, because my octopus is sliced in half, and there is a stabbing pain down my arm.

"**Aaah!**" I cry in pain. I stumble backwards, down to my knees.

Papa stops his blade as I clutch my arm with my eyes shut. "Lumina!" "Lumie!" Papa and Russet shout.

Papa puts his blade to the ground, Russet scurries to the scene. "Let me see, Missy." Papa says, his voice gentle.

I'm shaking, my arm is burning, and I can feel something hot trickling out of it, the air against my wound makes me wince. I reveal my arm to him.

"*Gasp!* Verwildert!"

"I know, Russet. I'm goink to fix it." He takes my arm in with his large hands. There is a long, slanted gash that runs down from my palms to my forearm, blood is steadily pouring from it.

With one hand he holds my arm facing up, and with the other he retrieves his blade, it quickly transforms it back into a staff. Muttering, he traces the tip of it down the gash, and with a green light the wound is healed. I breathe out in relief.

"Here, her wand." Russet offers.

Papa taps the broken pieces in Russet's hands, and it is quickly fixed. He squeezes my hand and smiles at me. "You did goot, Missy. You even cast a spell."

I look at him, not nearly as pleased. "But it backfired again."

"Ve'll overcome zat eventually. Zee point is, you didn't break your vand on zee first try."

I realize what he just said and my face switches to surprise.

"Ho,ho. She did well Verwildert."

"Aye. She seems to do her best under pressure. Perhaps your schoolink von't be so difficult after all, not ven exam time comes. Of course, vee have to teach you how to react _vithout_ adrenaline runnink srough your system." He brings me to my feet, and hands me back my wand. "Vatever you did back sere- it vorked. Zat sink zat you did vith your right hand. I have never seen it before."

_Huh? The incantation?_ "I was drawing out the symbols, to summon mana for the incantation."

"Yes, but you're supposed to do zat vith your _vand._"

"Oh." I realize. I look down.

"But it worked a little bit." Russet encourages.

Papa scratches his stubble again. "Yes, it did. It looks like you _are _capable of vieldink a catalyst. Vee have vitnessed zat you _can_ channel mana srough a vand, just not in zee right direction."

"Or perhaps, she can. But her _mana_ is the one not going in the right direction."

We look at Russet, intrigued. "Think about it. Mana is the life source deriving from the soul. It is from our very souls that we control our magick. If Lumie's soul is wild and untamed, it would equally mean that her magick does not take constraint very well. It goes against her very nature."

Papa awakens. "Aaah. Zat makes sense. A free spirit is not easily contained."

Russet picks up from where he left off. "And her soul is a mature one at that. Not so easily swayed. She hasn't had the proper method instilled in her yet, and at this point it may already be too late."

"Let's not say it's too late _yet. _Alsough her soul is mature, her mind is young. And alsough it vill no doubt be difficult, it von't be impossible, vee have to approach zis differently."

"What are you planning Verwildert?"

_ Will it hurt?_

"Hmph." He switches to his sword again. "On your feet. Vee are goink to try again."

I gulp, but stand.

"Missy, I can train you for zee next decade, but it von't make a difference if you do not _vant_ to be trained. You have to vant zis. You must convince yourself zat zis mesod of spellcasting is as important to you as your orignal vay is."

"But, I thought… That controlled-casting doesn't need emotion."

He nods. "But for you- it does." He positions his blade.

I wield my tiny wand with both hands, confused. _What could he mean? If I have to pour emotion and will into my wand, it isn't controlled-casting anymore._

"Ooohh. I get it now." Russet realizes.

I glance at em. "Vewildert is right, Lumie. Don't think of it as actual controlled-casting, just make it _look _like it!"

_Aaaahh._

We try again, and this time the dual goes by much smoother. When he lunges at me, I shift to the side, when he dives, I duck. When I cannot avoid his hit, I swish my wand and shout "Teleport Self!" But instead of focusing on my wand, I merely wave it around as if it were a prop, and focus my magick the way I know how.

It works.

"Haha!" Russet cheers.

Papa swings and slashes, I leap and skip. When I find myself in another face-off, I put both of my hands on my wand and shout "Teleport Other!" And Papa is moved behind me, where he slashes at nothing.

We halt.

"Marvelous Missy. You're reflexes are spot on, I von't need to be teachink you how to dodge or escape." He grips the hilt. "However, you cannot rely on zat façade forever. Zee time vill come vere you vill have to showcase your skills, and if you cannot put on anysink oser zan a performance- you vill be discovered."

"Then why did you ask me to do it?" I pant.

"I vanted to see if you could do it _convincinkly._ And you can. I vill teach you more. To anyone else it looks like you know how to use a vand- but a trained eye vould see srough zis farce easily. You vill have to learn zee mesod one vay or anoser." He squints, as if something has just crossed his mind. "Put your vand avay."

"What?"

"You von't need it, toss it aside."

I toss it into the grass, Russet scurries over to retrieve it, safekeeping it like my other wand.

Papa bends his knees and tightens his grip, his sword perfectly erect. "I vant you to fight me. And zis time, no holdink back. No vands, just use your hands, like you alvays have. I vant to see vat you've learned vith my own eyes."

I ball my fists and stance myself diagonally.

"Lumina."

I perk up.

"Take zis as a real fight. I vill not hesitate to strike you. And if I do, my blade _vill _cut you."

This makes me panic a little, but I try to portray confidence.

"Go!" He yells, sprinting at me.

My eyes bulge incredibly. His long legs carry him over to me effortlessly, and his brute strength reverberates in the ground through heavy stomps. I fly away from him, legitimately terrified. A light tinkling draws my attention as I run. _My pendant, oh yeah. It isn't glowing, so he doesn't intend to kill me- which is great!_

A glimmer in my peripheral vision stops my train of thought. I have to thrust myself to the ground to avoid a close encounter with the tip of his sword. _But that doesn't mean he won't HURT ME!_ I hear the sword whooshing in the air above me, I hop away, just in time. I spin around to face him. _No more running away. Show him what you've got!_

I harden myself, prepared for battle. With a whip of my arm, I cast Force Push.

Papa is violently shoved backwards, but remains on his feet, his sword shielding his body, his feet tearing the ground with deep skid marks. _That was only a warning._ When he rushes at me again, I cross my fist over my chest in a defensive manner, and when he gets close enough, I let out a blast of sound energy- a high pitched whistle.

It stuns him slightly, and I take this opportunity to kick in his lower direction and cast Sticky Feet. Papa composes himself, but he cannot move. He frowns and dispels himself, but not before I spin and thrust a powerful gust of wind at his face, carrying dirt and grass, it blinds him.

"Agh!" He cries out.

I rush up to him, knowing this is risky, I daringly put my hands on the blade, I try to cast Fracture- but a jolt of searing pain that rushes up my arms, stops me.

"_Aaaah!_" I scream.

He swats me back with the blunt of his sword, wiping his teary eyes. "Don't even _think_ about touching my blade, Missy. It only obeys me!"

I fall on my behind, and he swipes his massive weapon downward. I cast Fracture again, just as it's about to hit me, in a propulsion of magick.

It hits!

There is the deafening sound of shattered metal and the shimmering of blade shards scattering in every direction.

Papa looks genuinely surprised.

"WAAH!" Russet shouts, in shock.

I tumble roll backwards and hop to my feet. When I stand, I see my grandfather looking at me with legitimate **anger.**

It makes my blood run cold.

With a downright_ evil_ grin, he slowly raises his arm, and the tiny fragments of blade gather and swirl, until they finally lock and reform the blade, good as new._ …I'm in trouble._

"**Huuuuaaah!**" He roars.

This time I don't have an opportunity to flee. He flies at me with his blade in hand. He lunges forward, swipes left, then down, the right, then down, then up! He's so close I can't manage a teleport from this distance. He spins around and with a mighty swing he locks into my direction, I have to curve my fall, so his diagonal swing doesn't tear at me, it comes so close to my face I can swear he cut a few strands of hair off from my bangs. I jolt backwards, landing on one knee, he stays firm, not even panting like I am.

"Zat's my girl." He uncharacteristically chuckles.

I blink.

He suddenly bursts into laughter. "_HAHAHAHAHA!_"

"P-papa?"

He thrusts his sword into the ground, then he offers me a hand. "Come here, you _marvelous girl._" He smiles.

Warily, I get up and take his hand, he pulls me in for a spine-breaking hug. "ZAT'S MY GIRL! Did you see zat Russet? _Did you see it?!_" He laughs.

Russet hurries over. "I did! I saw it all! She was amazing!"

"What's so funny? What was amazing?" I ask them.

Papa steps back, a hand to his forehead. "No one... in my entire _lifetime_ has been able to break my blade. But you- you Missy. You shatter it into a million pieces! Ahahahah! **It's unbelievable!** AHAHAHAHAH!" He seizes me by the shoulders, I flinch. "You vere brilliant!" He cheers.

Russet climbs up to his shoulder. "Indeed. You were spectacular. I cannot believe how agile you are!"

I smile sheepishly. "Ehehe…"

"Agile? Zee girl is like lightning! Her reflexes are _animal._ Her flexibility is phenomenal! Able to squeeze and shift into tight positions like zat. You're a natural varrior!"

Russet adds in. "You're not as fast as Verwildert, and most definitely not as strong, but you can at least keep up with him. And that is nothing to scoff at."

_ E's right..._ _Papa sprints and swings a heavy sword around without losing his breath. I couldn't parry, but I can at least dodge him._

"Missy, you vere incredible. Do you have _any idea_ how _proud_ I am? Do you know how much skill it takes to avoid my sword? And you did it all vithout magickally enhancink yourself!"

_Holy crap… I-I did. I didn't use Boost Strength and I was able to match-up to an experienced swordsman!_ A small smile creeps up on my face.

"Ready yourself again. And brace yourself, tough girl!" He warns.

I rush back to the other side of the yard, he situates himself. Russet climbs the tree behind me, watching from a safe distance. Papa takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. This time, there is no warning, there is no signal. I'm met with an indescribable surge of powerful magick. The very Earth itself seems to shake, the trees and bushes rattle, an ominous wind picks up. My body goes cold, instinctually sensing danger.

When I size up my opponent, my grandfather, I see someone unfamiliar. His brows are furrowed, his mouth is tight, his cheeks sucked in, his nose wrinkled, eyes wide open but unblinking. In those eyes I see discipline, bloodlust, and an unflinching determination.

I see his ego.

And it is terrifying.

I don't see someone who is trying to teach me a lesson, but I do see someone who is going to _put me in my place._

The storm picks up, and I swear I hear thunder in the distance, the world that is our backyard silences itself in the true presence of The Tempest.

Papa barrages forward like a hurricane, dirt, grass and twigs are flown off of his path, sparks fly. I have enough time to skid my eyes down to notice that his feet aren't even touching the ground! With no more time to watch, I react. He lets out no battle cry, no smug expression, no obvious motion from his arms for me to determine his next move. I dare not attempt a teleport from this range, not when he could swing mid-teleport and splice me through the portal. So I release a blast of energy to at least slow his progress, but it does not deter him, and I meet his blade once more. I'm able to fling myself to the side upon the millisecond my spell shows failure, and I feel his blade graze my shoulder in one swift, short motion. So fast and sudden I didn't even feel it until I had already landed, and I would not have known it had struck me were it not for the sound of his whooshing blade. I haven't further time to process this information however, because as soon as I do land, I must get moving again. The rest is a blur.

I only hear the sound of a deadly blade cutting through the air, occasionally making that horrible slicing sound when it makes contact with flesh. My arm, my shoulder, against my knuckles and across my elbow. Through the barrage I catch glimpses of my opponent: focused, emotionless. Then a small stinging across my face brings me back to my predicament. How I am able to last this long I cannot say. All credit goes to my reflexive responses, my agility and flexibility.

_He's too much!_

I can only blink the speed of which his arms swing, his wrists rotate to slant the blade, but all I can do is evade, I cannot cast, I cannot escape. More parts of me are starting to sting now, as I am now starting a collection of cuts.

_Think Lumie, think!_

"Agh!"

_Get out, get away!_

"Ahh!"

_ He's too fast to teleport, too strong to overpower, too close for any sudden movements._ "**Yaaah!**" _That one went deep!_

I'm shaking, my eyes are tearing, the wind and sparks and dirt are making my cuts burn.

_DROP!_ I suddenly think, and in an unflattering fashion I throw myself flat on my back to the ground, then I grab the grass from beneath me and clench my fists. Grinding my teeth together and shutting my eyes so abruptly it gives me twinge of headache, I will the plants around me to spring forth. _Entangle!_

Mana surges through me, into the ground and back up into the air. _YES!_ I see the glimmering of a blade fall in my direction, but a swarm of roots, sediment and grass blocks my vision. It reaches out for him like an arm, only to be cut down by his blade in that same instant.

But that was all I needed, I'm already rolling over to the right, more plant life sacrificing itself to save me. I manage to get on my knees and teleport to the other side of the yard. The plants go limp, I hastily heal my wounds. Then I rise and run head-on to the force of nature that is my opponent. I cast Wrong Way, but he already thought ahead and cast a spell to interrupt my own. I jump backwards, he comes at me. Using both hands, I cast Stagger first, and the second after, I cast Forewarned. He was ready for the Stagger, and reflects it back to me, I physically dodge the stream of magick heading my way. I'm up and about, but still cannot predict his movements like the spell should allow me to do! He must have Mind Wall up!

I run, simultaneously casting Boost Strength on myself to gain the upper hand. I am now faster and stronger. I fly away from him, letting my pumped legs carry me away from danger, but still he chases me, swinging the sword. _He has a mind shield up, so I can't read his movements or use mental attacks to distract him. He's just as fast as I am when it comes to spellcasting, so even if I avoid white magick, his spell simply collides with my own and cancels it out. I can dodge him, but without my own weapon, or the ability to outcast him I'll never get any hits in._ I zig zag, hop and skip, throwing behind me an onslaught of spells, all different affinities, hoping to not be predictable. Force Push, Freeze, Flames, Slow, Fear, _Sleep _dammit!

Glancing back, I realize something. Papa doesn't swing his sword to cast a spell back when my own goes his way, it looks like it's going to hit him, but bounces off his body instead. _He's put up Shield! CRAP!_

_Okay, so he's got a mental shield and a magical shield, I cannot disrupt his mind, and now I have no spells that would affect him._

_This whole time, I've just been wasting mana! And I've wasted** a lot** of mana. I don't have a weapon, I don't have armor, or a comrade, or even a trap set up to my advantage. There is no escape route either. In cases like this it would be wisest to withdraw, set-up and illusion and run way. But I live here! I cannot, it looks like all I can do is surrender._

_No! Not yet, there must be another way._ I side-slide on the ground, through his legs, which he didn't suspect, it buys me about four seconds of time. I look around my environment, my boost slowly beginning to wear off. _What can use to compensate for what I don't have?!_

There's the one big tree- Russet is in there, bushes, small rocks, flowers, a few lawn ornaments… _I-I'm stuck!_ In a last effort of desperation, I cast Tap-the-Flow with my remaining mana, I'm not fully charged, but better off than where I was, at least half-filled. I don't bother recharging my boost, I know what I must do.

I skid to a stop, spin around to watch Papa zoom towards me, blade at the ready.

Then I shout. "I YIELD!"

Papa's eyes twitch slightly, and just when I think I'm in for a trip to the emergency room, there is a great rumbling, howling of wind and the sizzling of dirt. Papa halts right in front of me, blade to my throat, panting. I remain still, shaken.

He looks at me, or should I say, _through_ me. I gulp loudly, but try to retain some honor. "I yield." I admit softly.

"You yield." He repeats.

The dust settles.

I blink a few times, some seconds pass, I have my arms up by the elbows, palms open. The blade stays in place. _What does he want from me?_

"And vat if, I don't vant you to yield? Vat if I vas a killer? How vould you react?!"

_He's testing me._

"I would have never surrendered. I would've created a distraction, duplicated an illusion of myself and hastily escaped."

"Specify!" He demands, pressing the sword further against my throat. "How vould you create a distraction?!"

"I would create a massive cloud of dust, dirt, and plant material and used it to cover myself-"

"_And?!_"

"In that same moment, I would create the illusion of myself hiding behind the plant wall so that when you cut through or teleport to reach me, the real me would've already teleported far from the manor."

"_If I gave chase?!_"

"I would leave traps in my wake as I'm escaping, while repeatedly tapping the flow to have just enough to keep going, rinse and repeat. I would do it all while taking many routes, so if you attempted to track me, it would leave you going in circles, buying me time."

"…" He squints.

But he does finally let me go. I exhale in relief, falling to my knees. He kneels down beside me. Just as I think he's going to lecture me, or call it all off, he suddenly slashes his sword downward!

I respond with terror. I let out a blinding flash of light, and teleport. He misses, sheathing his blade into the ground. I'm standing about thirty feet away from him, panting, trembling. "Papa!" I wheeze.

"I know, I know." His familiar voice returns. "I vas just checkink to see how you vould handle such a situation." He leaves his sword in the earth, walks towards me and pinches my cheek.

The environment in our backyard is no longer hostile.

"It pleases me immensely to see zat you are not afraid to lay down your arms. A good varrior knows ven to fight and ven to retreat. You saw zat you vere outmatched, and raser zan engage in a suicide mission, you veighed your options. Your response vas acceptable, but for future reference, not all enemies vill be as **kind** as I am."

I nod, fatigue washing over me.

"Come. Your physical trainink is done for zee day, let us go inside and review." He retrieves his blade, transfigures it back into his staff and Russet clambers down from the tree to join us atop Papa's shoulder back into the house.


	11. Chapter 11

Back inside, Russet is kind enough to serve us both cold drinks. We're in the living room, sitting each on our favorite seats. My tall armchair, right in front of the large window, Papa's own similar chair- out of place and in the center of the room because it isn't part of the set, and Russet comfortably atop Papa's lap.

As nice as it is to be sipping iced tea in the shade and comfort of a nicely furnished living room…_ I'M STILL FREAKING OUT HERE!_ _I just had a **duel** with my grandfather! Nearly to the death! I must've acquired at least one hundred cuts from one VERY sharp blade. Papa flew at me in a miniature TORNADO! There was grass, and dirt and electricity, I swear I heard thunder! I am tired. So tired. Still catching my breath. Can't even drink my tea here. Phew._

"I vould like to hear Russet's perspective regardink our little battle outside."

"Oh. Me? Alright, I'll start straight away." Russet clears es throat. "Ahem. Hm. Well, where to begin? There was so much to spectate. I- I guess I should start with how astounding you were Lumie."

Papa smiles.

"I lost. Badly. If that were a real fight between me and Papa I'd be dead by now."

"I must say, I did not expect your practice duel to turn out how it did. I mean, I knew it would end in defeat- we're talking about a former Council Member here."

_Fair enough._

"But for you to last as long as you did… I am truly amazed."

"Uhhh, specifics?"

Russet hops on Papa's lap. "Your litheness is unbelievable. I wouldn't believe you were capable of such flight unless I saw it with my own eyes! And I did! I refuse to believe that you have not undergone any sort of strength training. To be that quick, to have those reaction times."

Papa answers. "Sche ran track in high school, and from vat I remember sche is an excellent svimmer."

"Ohh, so you have experience with running long distances and jumping over hurdles? Swimming would also improve your stamina I bet."

"You're right."

"But that does not explain your presumed knowledge of the battlefield. It's clear you've never wielded a weapon- I would never have gone for the sword with my bare hands. But for you to be able to dodge and cast with such verocity. You've fought before I presume?"

Papa and I look at each other, both a little tense. "Yes." We both say wanting to avoid the subject of just who were my opponents.

"Oh dear. Were you bullied in school Lumie?" Russet worries.

I shrug. _I mean I was, but that's not the only place I had to defend myself._

"Sche vas _harassed._ On a constant basis. Zee girl picked up a few sinks." Papa waves off any further delving into the subject.

_I'm sure he feels partially responsible for my crude, unrefined battle skills. I wonder if he felt helpless back then... I wasn't living with him yet, and I only had the time for tutoring once or twice a week. I hope he doesn't regret that decision, because I think he was right to focus on education. _

_He's healed my battle scars numerous times anyhow, it's not like he just watched and did nothing. And he always gave me a few tips here and there, tips I have put into practice many times. 'Keep your thumbs tucked aside the fist, not inside or outside unless you want them broken.' 'Bend at the knees to avoid being knocked over too easily.' 'Always stance yourself sideways for maneuverability.' 'Make your punches pop, not lunge. You lose power the longer the distance your fist is to the target.' 'Kick horizontally, not vertically. So if caught, you can easily swipe, trip, and escape.' _

_Oh, the discussion!_

"One thing, that really stood out to me was her stamina. And not just her physical endurance, but her ability to cast so many spells after the other, saving just enough to replenish her supply. Her mana-"

"Is only one of zee many mysteries zat surround her. It vas zee first sink I picked up on ven I met her. And from zee years zat have led up to now, I can confidently say sche possesses a _massive_ amount of mana for someone her age, prodigy or not. Having such a vast mana supply allows her to cast spells impossible for osers around her age. It is at a range and depth it takes professionals to match."

_P-prodigy? Me? Nu-uh._

"Yes, with her initial skills, plus her peculiar style of magick, I suppose it's plausible for her mirror you the way she did. But have you noticed her one fatal flaw?"

Papa slaps his forehead. "Ahhh. It vas evident form zee very start of zee match."

_ Uh-oh. I done goofed?_

"Lumina." Papa groans.

"Y-yes?" I stutter.

"You fight too fair!" The both of them shout.

_"Whaaaaaaat?" _

"Missy, I am pleased to see zat you fight vith honor. But you're takink zat moral too literally."

"Wait, what was wrong with what I was doing? You two were just praising me a few seconds ago."

"Lumie, surely you knew that you were outmatched?"

"Mhm." I nod.

"Zen vhy vould you focus on fightink me fairly ven you vere at such a clear disadvantage?"

"Oh. I think I get it."

"Lumie, at the very start of the battle, you were already handicapped. Verwildert had a weapon, you did not. Verwildert put his shields up, you did not. Verwildert was able to levitate and you could not! Yet you insisted on dueling him as if those things weren't so."

_Yep. I done goofed BIG TIME. Battlegrounds 101: Even the playing field._

"Missy, vat happened out zere vas _more zan_ impressive for a novice. But it still vound up beink a vild goose chase. Sink about it. All vee accomplisched vas runnink around zee yard. Except I managed to deal actual damage, and zis vas me goink _easy_ on you, and _you_ not havink to use a catalyst. If zat is zee best you've got, you are not goink to last long."

"It's not the best I've got. It was the best I could do in a confined space, in a duel that wasn't to the death, without using my most powerful magick." I defend. _I didn't even use my acrobatics. They don't know this, but I was holding back too. Of course, that doesn't make me look good, so that doesn't help me save face._

"If zat is zee case, zen it is understandable. I vas actually lookink forward to goink against any spirits you might have summoned, and you knew zat I schielded my mind straight avay. But vat kept you from puttink up a scheild as vell?"

"You weren't using magick against me except the occasional reflection. I didn't need to put up a shield yet. And unlike you, I cannot move while my shield is up. I can put a magickal shield around an area, but then I would be forced to stay in that small area, and that area is not very large, only big enough to protect a few people huddled closely together. I did not want to give up mobility or mana for something that would not even be put to use."

Papa snaps his fingers. "Zat makes sense. You mentioned zat alsough you can cast every spell zere is to learn at Iris, you only have seir basic forms available to you."

"A jack-of-all-trades but a master of none." Russet adds.

"Not to mention sere are sinks you can do not taught at Iris, but zey are not so applicable in combat."

"Please don't forget that she was a freshman Verwildert, and this is beyond what we were expecting."

Papa eases. "You are right. I am sinkink too far ahead of myself. You veren't even supposed to last more zan a couple of seconds anyhow if you vere zee average vizard. Vell done, Missy."

"Thank you." I relieve.

I get up from my chair.

"But!" Papa lifts his finger up high. "Vat have vee learned?"

"I must focus on gaining the upper hand. My fighting fair won't mean anything if my opponent isn't."

"And?"

"And that doesn't mean I can resort to fighting without honor either, I just need to even out the playing field."

"And your magick, Lumie? What about your magick?"

"From now on, I should focus less on learning every spell there is to know, and more on mastering my affinities. I have enough magick at my disposal, and there will be plenty of time to discover more. A handful of powerful and refined skills benefits me better than having many average-leveled skills. An all-around character is easy to defeat."

They both nod at each other in approval. "Now vee are done. Go rest, Missy."

And so this process is repeated. Over and over and over. Everyday Papa and I have a duel. It's never planned either. According to him, danger doesn't run on a schedule. The worst part is, I still have to somehow manage a daily life. Cooking, cleaning, checking the mail, perfecting my piano skills. Russet and I manage to sneak in a game of hide and seek here and there.

Sometimes he wakes me up with a sword to my throat, or slashes my bagel in half at breakfast, tries to stick me from behind as I engage in an evening read or ambushes me as I try to relax in the yard. The process is the same as well. I'm instructed to use my wands, and I alternate between the two. Turns out I do slightly better with the wiggle wand, so that's what I'm going to have to use this upcoming school year. _Oh, I can only imagine what Grabiner's face will look like when he sees me using **that. **_

I struggle, and struggle and struggle with my selected catalyst. Papa mends it every time it breaks. We don't stop until I either hurt myself, or until he gets tired of mending it. Then we move on to the next phase of the duel. Faking it. This is where I pretend to use my wand and I'm able to cast like I'm not an invalid. That is something I've actually made progress on. It looks more convincing, but why I would need to fake it, I can only assume. It's a taboo to cast the way I do, not against the law. But I suppose Papa merely doesn't want me to have a hard time out there, just in case I never master using a catalyst.

_A grim thought indeed._

Finally, we end our days with the all-out brawl. Him with his sword and I with my bare hands. It always ends in my losing, but I've been lasting longer- I've even picked up a few tricks. Papa even says I'm less predictable.

This goes on for two the next weeks.

In those two weeks aside from harnessing my skills in combat, I learn a few things about myself. _Apparently_ I'm too merciful on the battlefield, I need to not be afraid of using lethal spells against my opponent. I argue that I like to build up my defenses, only opting to use dangerous magick if necessary, but Papa insists that is an excuse for hesitation- which will get me killed.

Papa also pointed out that I still neglect to put up shields at the start of a battle. I argue that shields waste an abhorrent amount of mana, and the longer you have them up, the more mana you lose. I think it best to set them up strategically, after all, every ounce of mana is precious. My shields don't match up to his own anyhow, he's a blue mage! He told me that it doesn't look like I'm giving it my all either. But I am. Sort of. It's probably because his standards are so high, and that so many things about me break the rules that he expects a performance of some sort.

But I like to size up my opponent before showing them what I've got- you can't reveal all of your secrets. Because then your enemy knows that you don't have anything left. Your element of intimidation and surprise is gone. Papa says he can feel the spirits watching us as we fight too. I thought I was the only one who noticed. Thanks to the wards around the house, no one can see, hear, or sense the magick we use. But spirits are another story, they cannot invade the space, but they do gather around it. _They _know what's going down in this house. I've been spared from seeing them because of this complication. But what Papa doesn't understand is that it also inhibits me from calling the spirits to aid me in battle. A huge damper to a white mage!

Today is different.

Today I was warned beforehand that there would be a duel, and I was even allowed to finish my breakfast. Better yet, I was allowed to digest it afterward. Fighting with stomach cramps is _so not fun._ Neither is throwing up afterwards...

I dress in my gear: Hair tied up, sneakers, tank top, stretch pants. I walk to the back yard, amazed at Russet's handiwork.

Papa and I tear it up every day, then Russet will take the time to return it the way it was. Last duel Papa ripped the giant tree from the ground, the duel before that I nearly singed all of the grass off. Yet it looks just the way it did, as if nothing catastrophic ever happened at all. _I'll make something extra tasty tonight as a special thanks. Probably steak and mashed potatoes, a bit hot for the summer, but so delicious it'll be worth it, I could just eat a bowl of mashed potatoes by itself, that's how good it is._

As I enter the yard, my senses prickle. I feel danger in the air. Not deadly danger, I'm not terrified and my pendant isn't glowing, but I feel that something is amiss. There's trouble afoot. Standing proud and tall is my grandfather, right under the giant tree, sword already drawn in one hand, with... Russet in the other?

"We will begin."

_We?_

_What about Russet?_

Then something absurd happens. Still perplexed, Papa takes this opportunity to strike me. BY THROWING RUSSET! With a mighty snarl and arms outstretched, the cute browny is hurled in my direction.

I don't know whether to scream or laugh.

My mouth twists into a snorted giggle, and I stand to the side to dodge the ridiculous missile.

My mistake, because Papa flanks me. I'm struck with the blunt of his blade, a fatal miscalculation if he decided to use the edge- I'd already be dead.

I'm knocked to the ground, not as dizzy as usual now that I am accustomed to being struck. I curse myself silently for falling for the obvious diversion._ Fine, if you're going to play dirty, then I'm not using my wand._

With a curved kick to the right from my kneeling position I embolden my leg with sparks. The trickle of electricity irritates Papa. As I'm getting up however, Russet chomps on my calf.

"Ow!" I yelp.

Feeling more sorry than angry, I kick Russet aside. This distraction allows Papa to recover, who blasts me across the yard with a pulse of energy from his sword. I'm thrust against a garden gnome. Movement in the grass tells me that Russet approaches again, probably to grab my attention and let Papa deliver the finishing blow. I Force Push Russet away, and with a screech e is out of sight. A second later Papa has a go at me with his sword again, only I'm able to cast a light Push spell to slow his blade and bear the brunt of it with my left arm.

It tears into me, and it hurts like hell, but I stifle my scream and throw a ball of bright light towards the sword. The gleam is blinding. As I unsheathe the sword from my arm, I teleport behind the tree. I can hear Papa and Russet coming for me. In these precious seconds I cast Boost Strength, Heal, and Thick Hide. Now am I resistant to the elements, my arm gash is gone, and I'm faster and physically stronger.

I teleport again to the bushes, dodging Russet but not Papa, who teleports to me. I'm evading his swings, only able to throw red spells at him to my dismay. My red magick is not very powerful at all. The damage is easily healed, more useful for bluffing and diversion than anything else.

In the midst of our fighting I hear a "Over here!" Which stops me for a second. Papa bludgeons me in the stomach with the hilt of his sword and it knocks me to the ground, winded, I realize Russet is diving for me from above.

I yell a high-pitched whistle, which disorientates Papa and makes Russet wince. I roll out of the way and cast Sticky Feet on Papa- my biggest threat. Russet recovers enough to land on es feet and scurries up my leg.

I'm flailing and spinning to get em off, but then e reaches my face and starts scratching me!

I physically yank Russet off of me, toss em to the fence behind me and cast Freeze. With a "Mmmf!" Russet is temporarily not a problem.

"Beside you!" Rings in my head. I instinctively look to my side but find no one there.

Then I realize whose voice that was.

Too late into my mistake, Papa's sword is pointed at my chest. "You lose." He taunts.

I smirk. "Not yet."

He thrusts his sword forward, but I sway, spin, dive and leap backwards to safety.

"Mmmffmm!" Russets muffles in shock.

Papa is surprised too, but only for a moment. "Vere did you learn how to do zat?" He breaks out of character.

I only wink and wag my finger cockily. "A girl's got to have a few tricks up her sleeve." I slyly reply.

The battle rages on. I have the right sense of mind to cast Freeze again so Russet doesn't escape. An infuriating "Grrrmmph!" Tells me I hit my target.

Papa brandishes his blade with fire. Then with a devilish grin, charges. _Okay, that was really cool!_

More sounds in my head interrupt my thoughts. "Look over here! Look over here! Look at me!"_ Ugh, yeah right. I'm so stupid._ As I backflip as far away from Papa as I can, I put up Mind Wall. No more mind tricks on me._ Some white mage I am for falling for that._

A small smile from Papa tells me that he appreciates my flashy moves. It's been too long however, and I can feel my multiple buffs wearing off, I dare not waste mana replenishing them, or time to cast them. Time for evasive maneuvers: He swings, I slide. He thrusts, I teleport. He slices and spins, I flip and roll. As I'm running, I think of strategies to get me out of this mess.

_But first, another Freeze for Russet._

I toss my hand in es general direction and just as e was regaining movement in es legs. I catch a glimpse of Russet's face growing furious. "MMMMMMMMFFF!"

I let out an audible laugh, unable to help myself.

_Russet I have down, unless Papa takes the time to unfreeze em himself. But at the same time, Russet's magick isn't good for combat, so e can only attack me physically. I can take that. The problem is the diversion it creates, giving Papa enough time to do whatever he wants. And I can sense his aura getting heavier, more menacing._

_Papa has put his magick shield up, and unlike me- he can move around with it. His blade is another problem, not just for obvious reasons, but because I cannot touch it or take it from him without some protective ward going off and causing me pain. I can't use my white magick as freely as I would like to. There aren't spirits who can breach the fence and I don't have a partner to back me up. No point in casting Mind Storm or Wrong Way, he puts up his Mind Wall at the start of every battle._ I avoid an upward swoop. _Here I am again. No offensive spells can hit him, no tactical spells will affect him, and I don't have a weapon to engage in a proper sword fight. He's once again at the advantage of having shields, a weapon, and magick to use on me. What can I do? It can't end like it always does! No more running and no more yielding, and I'm not fighting until I'm dissolved of all my power like yesterday either!_

_Come on, Lumie. Do something. Something different! How can you tip the scales in your favor? How can you make this fight fair again? Overpowering him is impossible, but there must be an alternative way to at least match him up. Think. What do I have that he doesn't? What can I do that he can't?!_

…It hits me._ That's it!_

_Papa has a sword for a reason. Why would any **wizard** have a **sword** in the first place? To succeed where magick fails! _

_If he can't use magick on me, he still has his sword against my unarmed self. That's why he wins! Forget that I can't use magick on him. What matters is that he shouldn't be able to use it on me either. _

_I set up a shield, all he has is his sword. He won't be able to attack me unless he breaches my shield, but then he gives up his magick at that cost. _

_Okay Lumie, Papa gives up using magick to enter your shield, he still has that GIANT FREAKING SWORD. _

_I know! But somehow remove the sword, and it's a fair fight! Er, he's stronger than me, but we're in the same situation at least. _

_Riiiight Lumie, you've thought of this before, and you haven't been able get rid of the sword. You can't even touch it. _

_I know, but maybe it'll work this time. Make that your focus Lumie, make it your sole goal to get rid of that sword. Papa isn't a free caster, without that sword- which is also his staff, he can't cast! A shield may not even be necessary at that point._

I skid to a stop. Then I do something crazy. I make a mad dash for the tree and begin climbing up it. I barley dodge Papa's sword jamming into the tree, swiping under my foot. It makes me yelp like a little girl.

"Vell… _Zat's_ new." Papa comments. He then shakes his head.

I make it to a high branch.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." I hear before I see him.

He teleports to the branch adjacent to me, standing atop it. "But I can teleport Missy Monkey." He says as-a-matter-of-factly.

I clench the tree and brace myself. _Magick or sword, I'll be ready for him._ He goes for the sword attack. _Yes! This is my chance._ Just as he swings towards the branch, cutting it, I release.

As I'm falling and as he's swinging, I will a Force Push spell towards the hilt of his sword, knocking it from his hand. I land hard on the floor, but with triumph, I smile as his weapon is knocked against the fence and falls to the ground. Now Papa is stuck in a tree, without his powers. _HAHA!_

A growl behind me reminds me that I have another opponent.

_Agh, Russet!_

Russet, now free at last, unleashes the full force of his clawed fury.

"Yaaah!" I shout._ That hurts! Sheesh, e's worse than a stray cat!_

I hear Papa leap from the tree. _Nooo! He cannot get that sword!_ I elbow Russet out of the way, cast Sleep _and_ Sticky Feet, which works. Then I teleport to the sword and with another Push of magick knock it away.

I fling myself in front of Papa, knowing even without his catalyst he still has the effects of his shields. The only way I'm winning this is one on one. Letting instinct guide me, I attack.

I do a roundhouse kick, then a flip and a leap with my fist forward. Papa blocks. I situate myself in front him so he can't make a dash for the sword. Papa swings at me with his massive fists, heavy whooshes cut the air. I land hits with my legs to his side, shin, and shoulder. I twirl and leap away from his arms and legs, only returning close enough to land a hit and then retreat shortly after. All the while maintaining myself as an obstacle between him and his sword.

I glance to the left, Russet is still asleep, even when e wakes up e will have to dissolve the sticky spell first.

My vigor doesn't last for long however, because just as much Papa is a superior spell caster, he's a better fighter. Papa goes full battering ram towards me, and knowing that I cannot allow him to get the sword, dodging is not an option.

My heart sinks.

_ I've lost._

With a charged up punch, he breaks through my guard and hits me square in the chest.

_Words cannot describe the pain I felt._

A flash of white and then a cracking, sinking feeling.

I cannot breathe, my heart bursts, and then I feel the friction of sliding against the ground before skidding to a stop, my chest in incomparable agony. Burning, throbbing agony.

The world stops. At least my world does. Because I cannot open my eyes, and I cannot move. I think I can hear Papa shout. "KEINE!" Then race over to my side, presumably with sword in hand. The rest is fuzzy. My head is reeling, I cannot focus. I can only hear muffled sounds, frantic, hurried. "Sprechen Sie… m-it… mir!"

Large hands lift me up, I'm against another beating heart. Quick and hard is its rhythm. "Halte durch… Halte durch."

_Cannot move, body is limp._

My limbs feel prickly, a weird spikey feeling, kind of like static.

_Can't breathe, I can't breathe. _

_My heart. _

_Where is my heart? _

_I don't feel it._

I gasp for air, trying to open my tearing eyes. My vision is blurred.

_Papa?_

"Bitte… B-bitte… Verlass mich nicht!"

_What's wrong, why do you look so scared?_

A gentle green glow. Then I begin to come back to my senses. It still hurts, the pain takes forever to go away. But eventually it does. I'm woozy, but I sit up.

Papa holds me close. "Lumina! Lumina! I'm so sorry! Forgive me, baby girl. Papa made a mistake." He's rocking me now. His voice is all choked up. "Du bist hier. Du bist immer noch hier. Sie nicht weg."

_What? He's crying!_

"P-papa. What's wrong? What happened?!" I clutch his face.

Never before have I seen such terror or sorrow upon his face. His eyes are streaming with tears, he's clenching his teeth, trying to keep his lips from quivering. He pulls me close. Stunned, I wrap my arms around him.

I hear Russet come to. "Uwah? Whaa? Verwildert! Lumie!" E tries to move. "_Argh,_ what _is_ this?!" Russet frees emself, then scurries over. "What's going on?" Russet asks us.

"I-I almost killed you." Papa hiccups.

"What do you mean?! How?!" Russet panics.

"I-I hit her. T-too hard… I c-crusched her clavicle. P-p-put her into cardiac arrest." He hasn't the strength to say anymore and continues to sob, clinging onto me.

I am speechless.

"By the gods." Russet whispers.

He lifts my face up to his. "I didn't mean to. I svear on my life, I never meant for zis to happen. I underestimated my own strength. Are you alright?" He cries.

I nod, slowly. As he hugs me, I wince. _My chest still hurts, but he healed me. What gives?_

"Lumie! Lie down." Russet urges.

Papa lays me flat on my back. "I'm not much of a healer. Vas alvays more of a destroyer. I managed to mend zee bone, but her heart is still fragile. Can you stabilize it?" Papa urges.

Russet sniffs me. "Of course I can. She'll be right as rain, no permanent or lingering damage."

Papa lays a hand on my forehead as Russet begins the incantation. E whispers a little rhyme, one I cannot focus on, being too preoccupied with Papa, and the pain is completely gone. So is my numbness and wooziness. With an exhale, I rise.

We stand, unsure of ourselves. It's a lot to take in. _That duel went too far._

Papa groans and rubs his temples.

I hug him. "I'm fine now. It was an accident."

He returns the favor. "Vee are… Done vith trainink for zee day."

"Agreed." Russet salutes.

We dare not say a word. Not after my near-death experience, not after seeing The Tempest break down in a manner no other living soul has witnessed. A proud, strong man, brought to his knees in a fit of tears by the supposed death of his little granddaughter.

We head back to the house. I settle down for a nap.

Ignoring the solemn conversation downstairs, I drift off into a dreamless sleep. Too tired and too shocked to fret over anything. Sometime later, early afternoon by the looks of it, I awaken. I'm hungry too. I warily creep downstairs.

"Welcome back Lumie."

"Aye, Missy." They greet.

"Heya." I yawn. I sit myself on the love seat, next to Papa. Russet moves emself to Papa's lap.

"Missy I-"

Don't dwell on it." I interrupt. "It was an accident. And you reacted fast enough to rectify your mistake. All is forgiven."

"Nothing bothers you, right?" Russet asks.

"I feel great." I say with a smile.

E chirps in delight.

Papa sighs. "If you insist, consider zee matter resolved. Anyvay, vee need to review zee match."

I wrinkle my nose at the clear scent of alcohol coming off of Papa's breath. Nevertheless, I nod, awaiting my feedback.

"You are definitely gettink better." Papa nods. "You are beginning to read me, too vell, I admit. You've yet to apply shields in battle, but you even managed to strike me today. Not vith magick, but a strike is a strike. Progress at last."

"However." Russet continues. "It's reassuring to see you're becoming more aggressive in battle, as you should be, there is still the matter of your fighting style."

"Tell me what needs to be improved." I recommend.

"You see, Lumie. You fight as if you forget you are a wizard."

_Huh?_

Papa hums. "Zis is true. You are too accustomed to fightink zee mundane vay. It is understandable zat you vish to preserve mana, I am not tellink you to change zat."

"But seriously Lumie. Climbing a tree? A wizard with serious conviction to kill you would've blasted you the moment you started climbing. Verwildert does have to show restraint, as these are not proper duels to the death. But no serious enemy would take the time to let you do such a silly thing."

I smile. "But I knew _he_ would."

"Oh?" Papa raises an eyebrow.

"So you've picked up as well." Russet smiles.

"Vat is zee meanink of zis?" Papa wonders.

"You're cocky Verwildert. Lumie baited you into that tree. To get to the sword. How could you resist the perfect opportunity to cut someone from a branch?"

He pauses. Then chortles. "You _are _learnink."

Russet turns to me. "That however doesn't mean your skills are anywhere near ready. You're fighting style lacks just that- style. Quite frankly, it's sloppy. There is no method Lumie. You seem to fight purely by reaction. That should only happen on your last leg. You need a disciplined fighting technique. Structure."

I frown at that. Not because e is wrong, but simply because I am not looking forward to being 'broken in' to something else.

"But again, it is progress. Vee still need to get you accustomed to zee battlefield. But vee have plenty of time. No rusch, zat vould only make you sloppier, and you vouldn't retain anysink you learned. I have no doubt you vill develop a particular technique suited to you when it comes to fisticuffs. But zee only sink zat causes me vorry is zat you have reached no further ground vith your catalyst."

_*Sigh* I was hoping he wouldn't bring that up._

"Indeed Verwildert. It is most aggravating."

We sit in silence.

"Velp, no point in stayink here."

"Huh?" Russet and I mumble at the same time.

"It's been a vhile since any of us have left zee manor. I say vee take a break and go out for some fun."

I stand up. "Oh, really Papa? Where?"

Russet looks excited too, if not a little drowsy.

"I vould like you to tag along on zis outtink. So I'll need you to stay avake."

Russet yawns. "No promises. I am old. I need my rest."

"Zen let's give you a boost schall vee?" Papa casts a weird spell on Russet, who is instantly rejuvenated.

"Hmm. I know this spell."

"I'm sure. So you are avare of zee impendink crasch you vill have aftervards."

"Devil." Russet insults.

Papa laughs. "It's Sommer! Vat is a Sommer break vithout a trip to an amusement park?"

I hop a little. "Are we going to Coney Island?"

Papa cheeses. "Yes, vee are. Go get dressed."

Before I rush upstairs, I tug at his arm. "Could we visit the aquarium as well? Please?"

He ruffles my hair. "So long as you don't ask if zey're hirink."

_Darn it._ But I nod in agreement. We get ready, and we're off!


	12. Chapter 12

"Time for another rickety trip on that noisy, dented, tin can." Russet groans atop Papa's head.

"I don't like it much eiser, but traffic is bad verever you go sese days."

"Yeah. That's right. You're a cabbie kind of guy." I recall.

Papa shrugs. "I have a couple of cars. Zey just aren't here."

Russet and I glance at each other, then at him oddly.

"Just how rich _are you_ Verwildert?"

He scratches his head, as if aching to remember something, but the particular something he's trying to recall just so happens to not be that important. "Gah. Too much geld to know vat to do vith it. I drive, I like to drive. It just so happens zat I don't need to do so around here. Not anymore. Not so much. I've settled vith zee necessities zat's all- don't really_ need_ a car in zis state."

"Necessities? Such as?"

He counts with his fingers. "Oh you know, a couple of cars, a nice little boat, a small plane…"

"A plane?!" I nearly shout.

He shrugs. "I needed coverage for land, sea and sky."

"Verwildert, where are these things? Why do you have them?!" Russet gapes.

Papa rolls his eyes. "You can't be too prepared. Zey're back at zee villa. In Germany. I use zem plenty back home. I'm not _spoiled_. It's not as if zey're sittink sere, gaserink dust. I even run zem myself."

"You can sail?" Russet gawks.

"You can _fly?!_" I gawk even louder.

He clicks his tongue and waves us off. "Nosink to it. Anybody can learn."

"B-but two or three cars? That covers more than the bare necessities." I tease, not really meaning anything.

He smiles.

Too widely.

"Papa?" I question, suspicious.

"Vell of course I don't need anoser car. Zee little one is for your graduation."

"_Gleek!_" I squeak a positively inhuman sound, shocked out of my wits.

"Goodness!" Russet squeaks.

"Y-you got me a _car?!_" I begin to flush.

"Vhy yes. You'll need it. In fact, you need it now. You schould at zee very least know how to drive, Missy. Don't vorry, I'm goink to teach you."

"B-but when did you? How did you?-"

"Not too long ago. Around zee time I vas gettink your room accommodations sorted. I've got BIG plans." He ruffles my hair.

"B-b-b-b-b-ah… I-I. You-"

"I know, I know. But I need to have it shipped over here. By your next holiday we'll start teachink you how to drive. BUT. You're gettink to keep zee car vhen you graduate, no sooner zan zat. And you can't sveet talk your vay into acquirink it sooner eiser. I've mentally prepared myself for zat. If you continue to do vell in school, consider it yours. I expect you to graduate vith honors! _Honor students deserve cars._" He wags his finger.

We board the train, squished into a mass of flesh and varying smells. Russet looks extremely uncomfortable. Over an hour of standing and we finally can sit for the last leg of our journey.

"Why can't you just teleport us there?" Russet whines.

Papa leans back and stretches. "Oh, I could. I most definitely could. But zen I'd have to go srough zee trouble of cloakink us, landink in a secluded spot, or if I decided to be brasch, I'd have to tamper vith zee space so zee mundane don't remember vat happened. And I'd have to double check to make sure zat it vorked too. It's not zee same as enterink an enchanted area, already set up vith vards and charms so zat you can valk around freely. Not vorth zee risk of exposure. I'd raser save such energies for emergencies."

I grin. "And teleporting us out of being stuck in tunnel traffic is an emergency?"

Papa fumes. "My patience is emergency enough! Besides, I had to be a goot example to you. Like my Mama vas to me, to not rely on magick for trivial tasks."

"Oh bull-"

"Stille!" He hushes me, and we break into laughter.

We arrive at Coney Island. As expected, it's bustling with activity. Tourists and locals alike have all gathered for fun in the sun on the beach and adrenaline-rushed adventures on the rides. A group shrieks over our heads aboard the largest roller coaster. Far off you can see smiling and giggling riders on the swirly swing. Jugglers, stilt walkers and street performers vie for attention. Everything is a barrage of color, music, and the gleeful screaming of patrons. The scent of fried food fills the air.

The rumbling of our stomachs leads us to the first task at hand. As we're walking on the boardwalk we come across many junk-filled options. Ice cream, buttered pretzels, chips, soda, cotton candy, hot dogs, funnel cake. Papa settles with a funnel cake for each of us, his- a portion cut for Russet, mine without the disgusting sugar powder, buttered pretzels, a burger for himself and lemonades.

Russet is having a field day. "WOOOAH! Look at that! What's that over there? Lumie! What does this do?" Pointing this way and that, asking various questions, calling upon the gods for wisdom and mercy.

"Wow! This is good!" When e tries funnel cake for the first time.

"Eeeyuck. What's that smell?" When we pass a group of potheads.

"HAHAHAHA! What does he have on his head?" Towards a man who has won a plushy squid hat.

After a good walking we decide to start the amusement with carnival games. I pick out the rubber ducky stand.

"How does this game work?" E asks.

"It's more like gambling. You pay a small fee, then you pick a duck. Each duck is tagged with a number, but as you can see, those numbers are bottom-down, that's so we don't know which number we get when we choose a duck."

"What's the point in that?"

I point to the chart above the vendor's head. "See that chart? It's the number chart, with prizes listed aside the numbers available to pick. They range in value, so the point of not seeing your number is to get a fair chance, not to horde the good prizes for yourself. It's random."

"I get it now."

"It's a super cheap game too. Only a quarter. But that's what makes it addicting. Before you know it, you've already spent $5." I sigh in reminiscence.

"Well get on with it. Pick Lumie, pick!"

_I think all that sugar is getting you hyper._ I carefully select my duck.

"9!" The hefty vendor wearing a ridiculous pirate hat announces.

_That means I win… A handful of gumballs._

Against my better judgement, I hand them over to Russet. The excitable squeaks and giggles from behind me, plus the baritone chuckles of my grandfather tell me that e has never had gumballs before. Then I hear a "Pop!" And a panicked squeal from behind me, followed by Papa failing to hold in his wheezing laughter.

I don't even bother looking. _Congrats Russet, you blew a bubble._

_Now let's see… This one._

"17!" My number is announced.

_What did I win?_ "Pffft." _Stickers. I won. Disney Princess... stickers…_

_Great. Okay, one more go. I'm sure I can win a plush or a shirt or a hat, or something else!_

"30!"

_Maybe because it's a high number the prize will be better? NOPE. Glitter gloss._ "Ew."

"Let me give it a go."

I graciously stand aside, presenting the ducky bowl in a grand manner. Papa flips the vendor a coin and…

"5! That means you get to go again for free."

_That's interesting._

Papa picks another duck.

"1! We have a lucky winner!"

_ Huh? Did he win the grand prize? So Papa won a- what?! Free ride tickets!_

The vendor hands Papa a small bundle of orange tickets, used to gain admission for the thrill rides. The better the ride, the more tickets it costs. On the bundle label it reads "100".

"One hundred tickets." I say in awe.

Papa shakes them in my face. "Leave zee gamblink to zee grown-ups Missy."

I twist my mouth into fishy lips.

"Oh don't be sour Lumie. After all, you have your pretty stickers and glitter to play with." Russet bullies.

"Ugh." I respond in both envy and disgust.

"Hahaha!" "Hehehe." They slap palms.

_These two sync way too well for my health._

Papa picks out another booth. "Ah. Zat one."

"Which one is this Verwildert?"

"Basic target practice. Zese mechanisms here are vater pistols. You pull zee trigger and shoot a spray of vater at zee target. Zis game is time limited, and the closer you hit to zee bullseye, the faster your tank is filled. Zee goal of zee game is to fill up zee tank as much as you can before time runs out. It's not a single person game, you need an opponent to gauge a vinner. I challenge you Missy."

"Challenge accepted." I don't hesitate.

"Oooh, let's see this out."

The short, thin vendor dressed in a purple pinstripe suit counts us down. "Ready? Aim. Fire!"

Wacky music blares from the speakers overhead, along with a visual countdown screen. We have thirty seconds.

"Go Verwildert go! Aim for the middle!"

I can't bother with obstructions or distractions, I focus soley on my target. The nozzle is wobbly and the gun is hard to keep stable from the force the water is rushing out. With six seconds left, I glance at Papa's tank._ Almost filled to the brim! While I'm just below his amount. Aaargh! I've already lost._

"Winnerrrrr!" Shouts the vendor.

"Woohoo! Verwildert is the best!"

_Hmph. I remember when I used to be the favorite. Russet you ditched me._

Papa is handed a braided string bracelet, which he tosses to me. "Here. Booby prize." He taunts.

"Keep your booby prize. I want a rematch." I say childishly chucking the bracelet to the ground.

The glimmer in his eyes tells me he's already accepted. Without another word we sit back on our stools.

"Ready? Aim. Fire!"

I pull back the trigger as hard as I can, the amount of spray is enormous. I don't even bothering glancing at Papa this time. I'm drowning out Russet's cheers. Unfortunately for me, the pistol is quite heavy and the trigger is fixed, difficult to pull back. I lose another game with sore fingertips. Papa is given a second bracelet, which he also hands to me.

"Next game, next game." Russet demands hopping up and down, nearly sliding off Papa's head.

The next game we approach is another target game. "Still vant to face me? Or vould you raser vatch?"

I accept his obvious challenge. We approach the stand after a young couple has had their turn.

I watch them walk away, arm in arm...

"I think I know how this one works." Russet announces. E points. "It's another target game. You're supposed to throw the little ball towards these bottles and knock over as many as you can. Then you get a prize?"

"Only if you knock down ALL of the bottles." I correct.

"Fascinating." E states.

Papa goes first.

"You get three tries." The vendor instructs.

Papa takes one step back, winds up, _and there's the pitch!_ The ball zooms past me, and in a little white blur all of the bottles are knocked over. The vendor stands there. Mouth agape.

"Ahem!" Papa clears his throat loudly.

"O-oh yes, yes. Right. Uh. Pick your prize."

Papa picks out a cheesy "I Love NY" shirt in black, and in about ten sizes too small. Then he hands it to me. I point to myself in a quizzical manner, and he nods assuring me.

My turn. I'm handed the little ball, and with determination I swing. There is the satisfying clinking of bottles, but alas, not all of them are knocked over. The vendor sets them up again.

"Schould I do it?"

"If you don't _mind,_ I'd like to use the last try."

He shrugs. I step back this time, and I pitch a curved ball. The bottles clink and clunk. _Shoot! I only needed the last two._

"Hurrah! Verwildert is better!" Russet gloats.

"I think we should move on to another game." I pout.

We approach the "Ring The Bell" stand. "Ah. I _have to_ do zis one." Papa states.

"And what does this one do?"

"It's a measure of strength. On that device is a flat and measuring scale. You're given a heavy mallet to swing on the flat, which activates a mechanism that pushes the little weight up the scale. If you're really strong, the weight will be pushed high enough to ring the bell. Then you win a prize."

"Huh."

"Most people cannot ring zee bell. It's more of a chance to schow off raser zan vin a prize. Youngsters do it to impress seir lady friends."

"Could this be categorized under aspects of the human mating ritual?"

Papa and I burst into laughter. "Showing off to impress potential mates is universal Russet. But, in a way, you're right. It's competition, like most of these games are. People trying to prove they're better than one another. I suppose that's why carnivals and amusement parks are so popular amongst the youth-"

"Aren't _you_ a member of society's youth?" Russet points out.

"Well yes, I-"

"We need to show Lumie some fun Verwildert. She's aging decades by the second."

"_Hey!_"

Papa approaches the scale.

"You be careful old man." The vendor warns.

He is given the mallet, and to bystanders' shock he twirls it in one hand. Then with a huff, he slams the mallet down onto the flat. The little weight flies up the scale and rings the bell with a very loud "DONG!" Papa earns applause and several hoots from people standing by to watch.

Amazed, the vendor shakily hands Papa another bundle of tickets.

I approach the stand.

"Woah, woah, little girl. Maybe this isn't the game for you."

"I am no child, I merely want to give it a try."

Surprised by my answer, probably because I sound older than I look, he steps aside. "Heh. If you say so, girly."

I lift the mallet, a little shakily. Papa and Russet are watching, plus a few people close by. I straighten my back, bend my knees and swing the mallet hard over my shoulder with a grunt. "THWOMP!" Goes the flat. A gasp from the crowd tells me my hit went far. I look at the weight steadily travel up the scale and with a light "Tink!" I barely hit the bell. _But hey, I did it. I didn't think I was going to be able to do it._

I earn a light applause. Without a word, I hold out my hand and accept my tickets.

"Zat's my granddaughter, you schould know." Papa gloats.

"I-I can see the family resemblance." The vendor stutters.

We walk off, smiling and giggling. Tired of games, or more so, the lame prizes games have to offer. We view the attractions.

"World's largest rat?" Russet questions, staring at a overly-dramatized painting of a giant, feral sewer rat devouring an unfortunate man.

We pay our fee and enter the viewing block. Inside is a miserable-looking creature. Cramped in a wire cage, smoldering in the heat. Its fur is a reddish-brown, its head blunt and stocky, a round belly, short limbs and large front teeth.

"It's a capybara." I deadpan, not amused by the animal's predicament.

"The creature is clearly uncomfortable. He is hot and stiff. He wants to be let out so he can chew on the bushes and stretch his legs." Russet understands.

Papa leads us away, we view other attractions.

"A two-headed snake." Russet presses emself against the glass.

The snake slithers in es direction, sensing es presence.

"That mutation is quite common now." I state.

We see an armless frog, an albino crocodile, and a dog with an extra leg.


	13. Chapter 13

"Freak show?" Russet notices.

"I'd rather not go this way." I say, a little annoyed.

"But, what is it?" Russet insists.

Papa takes a quick cruise through the freak show.

I fold my arms in defiance.

We pass by the obnoxious portraits: "World's Smallest Woman!" The sign depicts, with a back board portraying a lovely, fairy-sized woman fitting in someone's palm. When in actuality it's an elderly woman who suffers from an extreme case of dwarfism. Her figure is deformed, a hunched back, sunken face and spindly limbs. She's no Thumbelina, she's 2'2. She sits atop a rocking chair on a porch while passersby snap photos of her.

"Gemini Man!" Which shows a two-headed man engaging in friendly conversation with his second head. In reality he's a Siamese twin whose sibling is a living chunk of flesh growing out of his shoulder. The twisted face has a pulled lip, which reveals snaggle teeth, and permanently shut eyes. A bulge of tissue which I assume is its abdomen hangs from the side, along with what is supposed to be an arm. Which is really just a stick of limb with three fingers. It doesn't speak, it doesn't move, it can't even eat or breathe. It's a parasitical relationship- the man it's attached to is perfectly fine in every way, and he does the eating, breathing and heart pumping for the both of them. All I can think about is someone putting the poor creature out of its misery. I don't even sense a consciousness emitting from it, just the fact that it's living tissue.

It doesn't take long for Russet to figure out it's all a sham.

"This is… Awful." E sighs.

"It's all voluntary if that makes you feel better. These people do it because they have to, it pays the bills. Some of them don't even mind." I inform.

After passing "Spider Digits!" Which is a man with eight fingers and toes on each hand and foot, and "The Amazing Bearded Lady!" Who is some unlucky individual who suffers from either one major hormonal imbalance or a gland malfunction- Russet has had enough. We leave.

"Chin up Russet. It's not as if sey're _forced_ to do it." Papa comforts.

"But it's still unsettling. Your fellow human beings are put on display for various birth defects, and instead of offering medical assistance, regular people pay money to stare and point?"

"People are fascinated by them. They get paid for their time. It's not that different from people paying thousands of dollars to admire models and actors for being especially beautiful to look at."

Russet has to ponder this.

"I know vat vill cheer us up- thrill rides."

_Finally!_ "Yeah, it's about time." I agree.

"And vith all sese tickets vee von vee can avoid vaitink in zee long lines for purchase."

"Dear gods protect us!" Russet shouts and we slide down the watery slope in a log-shaped sled.

It's a quick trip to the bottom, then we're splashed with icy water, soaked to the bone. Papa and I enjoyed it so much, we did it three times.

We handle the bumper cars next. Russet clings to Papa's chest like a squirrel on a tree trunk as we crash into each other over and over. Fearing for es life. "What's the point in this?! I thought you said you knew how to drive! Does this teach children good motor skills? No! Where are the morals?!" E panics.

Papa merely laughs it off.

We have to calm em down with cotton candy, drying off in the meantime. "This is not cotton." E frowns.

"It's just a clever name, it resembles cotton."

"That it does." E squeaks suspiciously.

"Just eat it, pull off a little bit, then place it in your mouth. The candy will do the rest."

E eyes me. So to prove my point I pull off a small chunk and eat it. That convinces em to try it.

Russet slowly puts the candy into es mouth and… "Oh! It vanished."

"Told you. It's a sugar-based candy. Once it reaches the heat and moisture of your mouth it dissolves. It's supposed to be more fun to eat than filling, that's why they give you so much."

"This is a novel experience." Russet scarfs down the rest.

"How can you process artificial foods? I thought the fae only consumed things from the natural world."

"Brownies are a little more tolerant to human things than the rest of us. I suppose it's one of the reasons we coexist so well. We are not so sensitive to taint."

"Taint?" I ask.

"We call it "the human taint". That is, the effect humans have on the environment. Your people scrape the earth and leave it bare, then you soil the air and water with pollutants. Humans have the uncanny ability to suck the magick out of a habitat by completely defiling its sanctity- when there is too much taint. Only humans produce taint. No one else."

"Is that why there are so many stories depicting brownies as house-dwelling folk? Every time I've read about one they are said to alive alongside farmers, ranchers and millers."

"Indeed. Brownies have a long and rich history of interacting with humans. Those who have made the pilgrimage to this world anyhow. Our people have been giving your people agricultural advice for centuries. With us being so in-tune with nature and all. Us brownies took it upon ourselves to slow the spread of the taint by sharing faery wisdom. We had to show you what's what in hopes of preserving the Earth. However, it doesn't look like our wisdom was heeded."

"Russet I'm sorry-"

"No, no no. Do not feel the need to apologize for what is not your fault. You are not here to suffer on their behalf. If push comes to shove, the magickal community will intervene if the world comes to dire straits. At least, _our_ corners of this realm will be clean. Let the mundane destroy themselves if they so wish."

I don't know what to say to that.

We approach my favorite ride- the swing.

"My. My." Russet gapes.

"This one is the best for me. You can see the whole park and it's a leisurely ride, not too fast to make you sick. But high enough to give you a rush."

"Those chains look hardly durable. What if they were to break? You would be flung who knows how far- inflicted with terrible injuries."

I shrug. "There are mechanics to assure that doesn't happen. Everything is brought down to an exact science. Weight, friction, velocity, etc."

"Huh?"

"Sche means zat sese rides are built to vithstand great force. Do not be intimidated by seir appeances."

"OH. Well in that case…"

We get on the swing. Pop music begins to play and bubbles are ejected from the tubes on the rim of the machine.

We're off!

I'm all smiles as we ascend higher and higher, until we finally start swinging. I've got a perfect seat on the edge, Papa and Russet right behind me.

"AAAH! Verwildert! Verwildert! We're leaning!"

Again, we laugh off Russet's most recent panic attack. I enjoy the view and ignore Russet's consistent squealing. Until I get curious. I glance back to see the two arguing.

"I'm gonna fall!"

"Hold tight you dunderhead!"

"Who are you calling a dunderhead? You tall, lanky oaf!"

"I ought to slice you up and put in you in zee fryer like zee very potato you're named after!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A POTATO?!"

I can't help myself. "_Pffff_-Ahahahahaha!"

Those two insult and argue through the line to my least favorite ride: The Cyclone.

_All my life I've been too chicken to give it a go. I'm okay with roller coasters, just not this one. Not this rickety, wooden, damn-near expired death-trap. How is it even standing? Why do people still ride it?! There was a fatal accident two years ago. Yet this ride boasts about how it hasn't changed since Coney Island was founded. When was that? Eighty years ago? I'm probably wrong, but I know this hunk of scrap is old!_

I tried to convince Papa to let us ride on the smaller coaster, but he said it was a baby ride. "Aw c'mon Missy. Give it a chance."

_I am THIS CLOSE to running. To just hopping the barrier and running all the way home. Across the ocean if I have to._

Then a familiar sensation of sickness smacks me upside the head.

"Nghh." I groan, rubbing my forehead.

"You can't fake your way out of this one Lumie. You were fine not twenty minutes ago. If I have to go on this thing, so do you!" Russet accuses.

"It's not that. It's just… The spirits. There are so many spirits."

_They gather around this ride the most. I could handle the stragglers walking around the park- they weren't bothering anyone. But these guys. They stare and holler and try to touch people. I had to shrug one off me not too long ago, which shocked him almost back to life I bet. Some in uniform, workers who died on the job I presume. Others in plain clothes, most of them out of date. Victims of Cyclone's past I guess._

_I'm used to this, seeing the dead amongst the living. Slightly transparent figures phasing through the solid figures. As I grew up I learned to differentiate which was which. Lucky for me my white magick must really give them a "Back off!" vibe, because only the bravest ones approach me._

"Are sey givink you trouble? I could spell zem avay."

_As much as I would appreciate that, they were here first. That would be rude._ "I'll tell you if it gets out of hand. Their energy is just giving me a headache is all."

"I can fix zat." Papa offers. He holds out his cane, then places the other hand on top of my head. I grip it tight, forming a connection, and a few mumbles later, my headache is gone.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He whispers. "Now up, up. Get on zis ride. Today I am goink to make you face your fears. No kin of mine is goink to be afraid of a little coaster"

"It's _not_ a _little_ coaster." I complain.

"Hold up, wait a minute, what?! If Lumie is afraid of this thing, I should be too."

"Relax, you little acorn. I'm ANCIENT. If anyone has anytink to fear it is me. And I am not afraid."

"You're a dare devil, aren't you?"

"I am **Zee Tempest.**"

By order of The Tempest, Russet and I are ushered onto the ride. The bars clink, the metal creaks. And we begin to move. My palms are already sweaty, and my heart beat starts to accelerate.

"Easy girl." Papa pats my back.

_Here we go…_

We're rushed ahead and I lose my breath. The excited giggles and yelps of other passengers not far behind.

"Oh gods and goddesses here my plea-"

"Quiet zat noise Russet!" Papa hushes.

We speed straight, then lean, down, then lean, forward, up, down. All the while leaning dangerously close to the edge, convincing me that I'm going to be thrown off. We make a sharp turn.

"Ayiiieeee!" Russet screeches.

I'm too proud to scream, even though it's apparent by my wide eyes and gritted teeth that I'm afraid. I hold it in, trying to convince myself this is fun.

We zig zag, turn left, right, up, down, zig zag again, we make a round, then we're headed up and up and up. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. Goes the coaster.

"Ohhh no." I whisper to myself.

"Ah. Ah. We're so high." Russet whimpers.

"Zis is zee best part." Papa grins menacingly.

Tick, tick, tick, tick. Tick. Tick… Tick. WHOOSH!

"AAAAAAAIIIYYAAAAHHH!" Russet screams at the top of es lungs.

I'm too struck to join em. Papa is hooting and laughing all the way down. All I can think about is the unsettling creaking and groaning of the wood. _This thing sounds like it's going to fall apart any second!_

Rattatatatatatatatatatah! Skreeeeeee! Skreeeeee! Skreeeeeeee! Tickatickatickatickaticka! Plus the screaming of the people surrounding me, echoing through the cuts in the wind. I'm being tossed around in my seat. _Why doesn't this accursed thing have seat belts?!_ We spiral so fast my head is tilted back.

I look beside me, Papa is having the time of his life. I can feel my palms ache from gripping the bar so tightly.

We're going faster now, spinning. We're upside down. Now we're sideways. I try to look beyond, but all is a blur. I can feel myself being lifted out of my seat. _This is not safe! All that is right and good about roller coasters is not present here. This is bad! This is wrong! This is unjust! I demand justice! MAKE IT STOP!_

At last, it does end. With a final FOOSH! of the hydraulics.

I exit the ride, heart pumping, mind spinning.

Russet is so terror-stricken e falls off of Papa, back first, to the ground. Papa picks em up and dusts Russet off. Then perks em back on his head as if he dropped a hat. Russet doesn't even blink.

"Zat vas fun! Vasn't it guys?" Papa chuckles.

I try to nod my head, fighting back my chattering teeth. And I stick out a shaky thumbs up, knees knobbing.

Russet only says "_E-eeeE-eEeeeEeeee-EEeep-p._"

"Ah, quit you're groanink Russet. It vasn't zat bad. Missy here handled it better zan you! Man up and grow a pair."

"I am not a man. I am an asexual, androgynous, organism. And I will cower and whimper as it so pleases me. *Hiccup!*" Russet begins to moan in nausea, sliding off Papa's head again.

"Fragile little spud." Papa says under his breath, propping Russet over his shoulder.

"I know vat vill make everyone happy. A nice, calmink trip to zee aquarium. How about it?"

"Y-yes please…" I shiver too eagerly.

"Save meeeeee." Russet moans.

We hobble our way over to the aquarium, not far from here, pay admission and enter. The rest of the evening is spent gazing at fish, turtles, mollusks and other creatures swim about gracefully.

For some reason, _she_ returns to my mind, as she always tends to do when it comes to water or sea creatures, but I do not let it get me down.

I point out each and every one I know, Papa remains silent and observant.

Russet is still woozy, but enjoys admiring the animals. E points out which ones taste the best, prepared in what way. "That one is perfect for sushi, and that one makes a mean calamari. Oh, this one makes the most _divine_ soup. You know Lumina, you could just go pescetarian."

"I'll think about it Russet."

Sometime around the jellyfish tank, Russet finally passes out.

"Zee spell vore off. E vill be out all day."

"And night." _Until es internal clock sets itself straight that is, which could be the next two days and nights!_

Papa places em in his front shirt pocket.

We find a place to sit right in front of the shark tank.

"Papa. I want to hear about these so-called _plans_ that you have in mind for me. What you were mentioning earlier on the train."

Papa beams with self-pride. "For you to understand it fully, you'd have to know how it started and how long I've been plannink. Vell, you see Missy. Ven I met you, I vasn't livink here full-time. I vas actually on holiday."

"O-oh?"

He chuckles. "Yes, I had been stayink in zee city for zee Sommer. Tryink to sell off a property I owned."

"The manor?" I finish.

"_Our_ manor." He corrects. "It vas a piece of land I've owned for quite some time, and I barely ever used it. Zee villa in Germany vas my current home at zee time. A place vere I vould go to rest in betveen my times of magickal vork and to be near my family."

_Something about his tone of voice changed. And it bothers me…_

"But back to it. By some impossible luck I stumbled upon you and fell for your charms. Didn't even take a year for me to vant to steal you. I began imaginink, gettink crafty, formulatink ideas. As vee grew closer, I started puschink sose ideas into becomink reality, especially as your situation became direr. Oh, I have it all planned out. Sere are so many sinks I have to teach you, and I know you'll enjoy zem too. You love to learn. Not just zee history or literature. Not just your language skills. But your magick. Yes. Your spectacular magick. You are so special Missy. More zan you probably even know. I know right now, you probably see your strange powers as a burden. But do not. You are different. And beink different gives you an edge, it makes you unique. Cherisch your gifts Lumina."

I remain silent, hung on his words.

"It's quite simple. I vant to be a parent. I personally hate children, yet I find myself vanting to be a granddad. _Your_ granddad. I vant to take you to Germany one day, schow you vere I grew up, introduce you to my brosers and seir families- my nieces and nephews and in-laws. I vant to take you flyink and fishink and teach you how to drive a car. I vant to schow you all of our animals- I know you'd like zat. I vas hard on you vith your studies because I vanted my influence to rub off on you. I vanted you prepared for sose days to come, just as much as I vanted you prepared for zee independent vorld." He chuckles again. "Of course, not everysink has gone as planned. Zere have been snags. And you've even turned _my_ life around."

"How so?" I ask quietly.

"I didn't move to zee states, boser vith acquirink citizenschip and purchase a pricy piece of land to pick up a random girl off zee street and make her a part of my household."

_Oh. Right._

"But I did. And I loved it."

That makes me smile.

"Now, vee both know how zat turned out. Zee biggest obstacles I have faced for seven years now is your magick. Vell, not your magick so much as zee _nature_ of your magick. It has been a frustratink vaste of time avaitink zee day you vould be admitted into school. A conundrum zat still irks me!"

_ Me too. I can understand why after those missed years the academies would be skeptical about housing an adult freshman. But what the both of us still don't understand is why it took them so long to notice me. Why was I forgotten? No one came to me and offered me The Choice on my thirteenth birthday. I might have never gotten The Choice at all if it wasn't for him._

Papa grumbles. "I vas in constant touch vith many contacts, askink questions, gettink opinions, searchink for answers. You didn't know it at zee time, but I did not sit sere tviddlink my thumbs. I vas vorkink 24-7 to at least get an explanation as to vhy such a sink vould happen. A flaw zat huge vould not go unnoticed- and you told me a vhile back you could still do magick vith zee Seal on you? **Impossible**, if zee proof vere not in front of my eyes." He shakes his head. "All I could do vas tutor you academically, it inhibited me from so many sinks. So many vonderful sinks zat are long overdue."

"But we still spent time together, and more so when I moved out. Why would it-?"

It hits me.

"M-missy?"

"You kept your distance from me."

"Ah…"

"You _had to._ That's why you didn't do all of things you said you wanted to do. Why I know so little about your personal life up until now. Why we couldn't dabble in magick."

"Missy-"

"It all makes sense now. You were protecting me. From _you._ I mean, that would explain why you didn't offer to adopt me years ago! You could've at least told me you wanted to. I could've been ready, I would've prepared."

"But you don't get it." He tries to stop me.

"No. I do. The pieces are coming together. We don't know why I wasn't tracked by the system. It's because of that, _whatever it is_\- allowed me to be overlooked. I'm sure of it. You've told me about The Seal, how it works. And if what those rejection letters said were true… I was at risk of getting my mind wiped."

He frowns.

I stand up. "That's it, isn't it? You couldn't tell me too much about magick-even though I'm wildseed, because you didn't want to waste your breath. You couldn't adopt me, or reveal too much about yourself, because… What if I got attached? What if I got my hopes up, only for them to be taken away? All of those times you kept telling me 'When you're older.' 'When you get into school.' 'In due time.' It was because you didn't want to lie to me. You didn't know if I was going to last that long… And as a former Council Member, _and_ the same person who placed The Seal on me-"

"It vould be my sole duty to strip you of your magick and erase your memories."

I slump back into my seat.

Papa sighs. "Yes. Zat is zee truth. It vould be my responsibility to remove you from zee hidden vorld. Zat is vhy I kept comink up vith sose excuses." He puts his arm over my shoulder.

"But you kept me around. You kept in touch with me anyway. You didn't have to- it would be a lot less painful if you never took me on as your student and watched me from afar."

He shakes his head. "It's because I'm selfisch…" He whispers. "I couldn't do zat. I vouldn't. I loved you too much…" He has to pause, but he continues. "I knew I vas gettink attached. And I knew you vere too. But I did not possess zee vill to break zat link. To sever our bond. So I took you on as a mundane student."

My eyes widen.

"Erasing memories is complex. But zat complexity is vat makes it convenient. You get to choose vich specific memories to retain and vich to discard. You can even keep certain memories and altar zem so zat a few truths remain vhile zee gaps are filled vith fabrication. Zen zee council makes it so, taps into zee mundane vorld to apply zat fabrication and make it legitimate."

My mind races. "So that means… Even if the ultimatum occurred. I would still have some of my memories. The lessons-"

"You vould just not be avare of zee magick you vere born vith, zat magick itself ever existed. And you vouldn't know who I vas. Not personally. Just zat I vas your grumpy old teacher."

I'm stunned. "That was your small way of keeping you present in my life. Wasn't it? I'd never know the whole truth. But for the rest of my life I'd carry the skills you gave me into the world. And I'd even still know your face."

He nods, looking very morose. "You could even visit me from time to time. For furser instruction. Or simply to catch up as old friends."

He looks at me, guilt ridden. I scrunch up my nose and punch him hard in the shoulder.

"Yowch!"

Before he retaliates, I swoop in for a hug. "You're so stupid, Papa." I say muffled into his shirt.

He relaxes, then begins stroking my hair. "I know."

We remain in the aquarium until nightfall, to our delight fireworks are blasting outside. Papa and I grab a bench while I enjoy roasted corn on the cob, he a hot dog. I let my feet go bare against the sand, digging my way in, wiggling it between my toes. It's so warm and relaxing, and even against the fireworks I can hear the waves crashing against the shore. I can smell the beautiful scent of salt water. _Lori would've loved this._

Russet gets a glance at the sky display, woozes something about it being "Prettyyy…" Then slumps back into Papa's pocket.

Papa holds out his camera and shows me the pictures he's taken all day._ I didn't even see him whip out a camera. More for the album, I bet._

We return home breaching the early morning hours. I'm holding open the front door. "Where were you?"

"We have mail." He answers.

I yawn. "Oh, we'll check it in the morning."

He hands me my letter, which wakes me up. As soon as I touch the envelope this feeling of anxiety runs through me.

Papa kisses my forehead and bids me goodnight. He's going to work on the scrapbook for a while. I slowly creep up the stairs, wash, undress, and head to bed. The letter feels cold and numb in my fingertips. I'm extremely curious, but something about the vibe this letter is giving me tells me its bad news.

_I don't really need that stress right now. I had a nice day, I almost died this morning- but other than that I had a really nice day. I shouldn't look at it now anyhow. Serves him right for being two weeks late._

I fall asleep easily. But as I'm drifting into deep sleep, a dream disrupts my comfort. It's very short.

I see colors, dark and icy colors. Then I see myself, standing. I look to my left and there is…

_Professor Grabiner! I-I'm so happy to see you. You have no idea how much I've missed you._

I hurry over to him, the scene switches to Iris, in the courtyard. He's his usual self, grumpy, a little stoic, tall and brooding, but I could care less. I walk beside him, he begins a lecture I cannot hear or remember, but I'm just happy to hear his wonderful voice. In the midst of our walk, the scene gets cold. I can sense something is very wrong. Professor Grabiner is unaware of the danger, but I feel as though we're being watched.

No. **Hunted. **

I look to him, only to see him fall. Fall and fade out of existence, through the ground, far away from me. The ground has opened up into a tunnel, an endless chasm that swallows him.

_No! I must save him!_ I reach for him, but I cannot touch him.

_Hieronymous!_

Just as I call out his name, the image of a manus forms in front of me. He laughs and bares his teeth. Then with a quick thrust he claws his way into my chest, goring me.

I gasp in disbelief.

He grips something tight, something that I know is precious. And begins to pull. It cracks me open. The pulling, the tearing, the tugging agony of my resistance. I scream-

"_Aaah!_" I shout. Panting, gasping. _I-I'm in my room._ I exhale. _It was a dream again._ …I place a hand to my chest, still feeling that horrible pain. _What do these dreams mean?!_

I lie there, thinking. Overthinking. Like I usually do when things like this happen. I sigh.

_These dreams don't necessarily have to mean anything._ I slap my forehead. _Duh! I'm stressed!_ I shift around in my bed. _Of course, that has to be it. I saw my best-friend die, I've been abused by my family for as long as I can remember, I've been bullied in school, attacked by a manus, forced to marry my professor and then I went into cardiac arrest a day ago! _

_Maybe this is similar to PTSD?_

_ Maybe I'm traumatized..._

_ That has to be it. Yeah… This would happen to anyone. _

_Okay Lumie, you got it. They're nightmares. Nothing more. You're on vacation. You're going to be fine. You've earned this. Life is going to get better from now on, you'll see. Relax, and go to sleep._

First thing in the morning, I open the blinds, tidy up my room and get washed and dressed for the day. I feel better after my revelation last night. _I can quit panicking now._

I pick up my letter and place it on the counter, _I'll read it after breakfast is done._ I whip up some delicious pancakes and bacon, and serve glasses of orange juice. Papa gets his regular coffee in addition to that.

Russet is still suffering from the effects of the spell yesterday, or well… The _after_-effects. E won't be up again until sundown.

We eat and giggle at the pictures of our adventures on the thrill rides yesterday. Russet's various screams of terror look especially hilarious. My face is so serious on the Cyclone ride, though. Papa also got some decent shots of the fireworks.

Finishing off my last pancake, I decide to open my letter.

"I vonder vat zey have to say now. Didn't zey tell all zere is to tell you?"

_You don't know I keep in touch with my… Husband. Wait a minute. This isn't from him. The script is too large, the letters aren't sharp, in fact, they're a bit bubbly. And the ink isn't thick or dark it's shiny and pink. Potsdam?! _

I hurriedly open the letter. I am not greeted with the euphoric scent of expensive parchment, but instead I'm smelling an intense, flower-scented stationary. It's a blush color with rose vines bordering the page. Pretty, but not what I wanted. _What is she writing to me for?_

"Vat's vith zee face, Missy?" Papa wonders.

"I don't know yet, let me see." _This is definitely her handwriting._

"You must follow my instructions precisely-

be sure to tell Mr. Atchung that Petunia has requested you return to Iris Academy. As far as he is concerned, you will be participating in rigorous study to hone your skills with a catalyst. We wish to analyze your abilities first-hand. Assure him that your instructors will provide personal guidance and assistance. Should you show any kind of progress with a catalyst, then the ban on free-casted magic will be lifted for the upcoming year and you will additionally be offered a seat in the Magical Honor Society.

This letter has been triple-enchanted to only relay what I have previously mentioned should Mr. Atchung try to read it himself.

You must not waste time. You are in danger, and you need to reach the safety of Iris Academy. There is a newfound complication with your marriage contract. One that Mr. Atchung must not know of. In the envelope is your plane ticket, your flight leaves at exactly 6:00am on Saturday morning. I will be awaiting you at the airport."

…I go pale.

"Vat's vrong?" Papa worries.

"I-I'm nervous." I admit.

"Vhy? Vat did it say?" He says stuffing more pancake into his mouth.

"I've been told to return to the academy."

"VAT?! But it's only about two months into vacation!" He spews.

"I'm going to be examined. The instructors want to give me a chance to grow accustomed to using catalysts before the new school year starts. If I show progress, the ban on my free-cast magick will be lifted and I'll be dubbed a member of the Magickal Honor Society."

This stops Papa in his tracks. "Hmmmm." He mumbles. "Zis is only a trial period, correct?"

I shrug. "I guess so, the letter is really short." _I'm trying to tell as most of the truth as possible._

He thinks about it long and hard. He scratches his chin, taps his fingers on the table, closes his eyes. All while muttering to himself.

I finish my last pancake is silence.

Finally, he speaks. "Zey must be quite vorried to advise such an extreme. But you can tell zem zat you're already trainink here vith me. And zat zey can gauge your progress from my testimony."

_Uh-oh. Quick! Say something convincing!_ "Actually, I want to go."

He's shocked. "You don't trust me to train you?!"

"It's not that! I do. But you and I will have more time to train later. They want to look at me up close. I think they have an idea of what to do, why else would they offer to lift the ban? And well... I'm interested in that spot in the honor society."

There's a glimmer in his eyes. _I've caught his interest._

"I see." He folds his fingers.

"I want to see what they have in mind. Maybe it's different from your approach? And think about how _desperate_ they are. First they send me that other letter, but then they send me this one? _Something _changed their minds. This could lead to an advantage."

He smiles. "You could be onto sometink."

I don't know how I did it, but I find myself packing. Saturday is tomorrow!


	14. Chapter 14

As I'm packing, I'm internally panicking. _She wrote that letter so hurriedly, some of her words were smudged. She didn't bother with a "Dear Lumina," or even "Sincerely- Petunia Potsdam". What could she mean? Why couldn't she tell me in the letter so I don't have to spend all this time worrying about it? I at least want to know what I should be worrying about! What could be possibly be so wrong? And why now?_

_It must've just occurred to her. And maybe that's why she needs me over there. It seems everything was going along fine up until now. So it must've been something sudden. Has she discovered something? Is the manus on the loose and I need to be protected? **Is the professor alright?!**_

_ Could this have to do with the secret studying he mentioned she was doing? Ohhhh, there's just too many things I don't know! Backtrack Lumie. What could you have done to mess this up? Have you done anything wrong?_

_ …Uh. _

_Ugh! _

_Hmmm. _

_Mmm. _

_Nnngh! _

_WHAT DID I DO?!_

_I'm in danger. My life is in danger. If my life is in danger that means the professor is also in danger. How could this have happened? She said that something "vital" was "missing" from my marriage contract._

_ Missing, missing, what could be missing? _

_I was assured that love doesn't need to be present in a marriage. So it shouldn't matter that we're not in love. We didn't take any vows of love. Vows… Did I break a vow somehow? No. It would've happened already. Magickal couples don't need to live together either, so it's not that we aren't sharing a household. I've been kind, I've forgiven his mistakes, and I we were able to chat together over tea. I've been plenty courageous, I told him myself I wasn't afraid of him. What do marriages need to remain legal? _

_Euuh. I know mundane marriages require a written contract, that's if you have a prenuptial. There is a marriage license that needs to be in order before you can even do that. But I don't think that's how it works with magick. Was it the ceremony? No. Then the contract would've never formed at all, the marriage wouldn't have happened. We had a witness, a… Priestess? She's no justice of the peace. Whatever she is, she had the authority to bind us! I would've doubted it, but again, the marriage never would have been possible. We didn't need a blessing from the two families. I remember, it wasn't an arranged marriage._

_ I did well in school. Very well. It can't be that I've done something horrible enough to be expelled. So what the HELL is wrong?!_ I slam my palm into the hard floor. It stings, but I could care less. _**Why are things** **going wrong?!**_

The rest of the day is hard. I'm anxious again. _For some reason she doesn't want Papa to know, so he can't know why I'm tense. Therefor I cannot be tense. I have to spend this time acting as if nothing is wrong at all._ I cook, I clean, I water the plants, I walk around the yards._ I can't even talk to Russet right now! Maybe e would have an idea. I could bring em with me. No… If I am in serious peril, I would be endangering em. That would be selfish._

_…What if this can't be fixed? _

_What if I can't be protected after all? _

_If we can't save me this summer then I'm going to die… I'll die. Am I going to die? _

_I-I could actually die. _

_So soon? No. No. I'm not ready to go. There's so much I still have to do. I want to do so many things! _

_I don't know what happens after death. Some people become earthbound spirits, but spending eternity in purgatory, unheard, unseen? That can't happen! _

_And not everyone becomes a ghost. Lori. I don't know where she is. I can't even séance her down here. She's unreachable. She doesn't even speak to me through dreams. That's it. Once she was gone. She was gone. I haven't felt her presence or sensed her spirit since. What happens when you go gone? Where is gone? _

_Is that just it? You're nothing anymore? There is no light at the end of the tunnel? No sense of peace? You don't go "home"? Are you just floating around in nothingness? Are you even aware of yourself? Is it just blackness and emptiness as you rot in the ground? _

"_Oh, God! _Snap out of it Lumie!"

_I've lived such an incomplete life! I haven't done anything monumental yet. I can't go. _

_So will I be another lost soul? Unfulfilled and wandering, hoping for someone to finish what I started? Nu-uh. No way. No! That is not happening to me! Do you hear me world?! I am not going to die! My life was finally starting to go right! I was beginning to actually have a life! You are **NOT** taking it away from me!_

I slap myself hard and fast across the face. **_Smack!_ **"Get ahold of yourself Lumie!" _I need to go wash my face._

After a splash of cold water and dabbing my face with a fuzzy towel, I open the door to find Papa outside the bathroom. "Ah!" I yelp, surprised.

He jumps a little bit. _What is he doing on this floor?_ "Uh. Emergency? Go on in." I hastily move out of the way and leave the door open.

"No. No. I vas just checkink up on you. I vas on my vay to your room but zen I saw you rusch out of sere vith a panicked look on your face. Is sometink zee matter?"

_OH… Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

"I'm just, anxious." I admit.

"Hrmf." He grunts, nodding slightly.

He looks anxious himself. "Are you sure,_ I'm_ the one who needs checking up on? You seem off."

He shakes his head. "Ahhh…"

"Go on, tell me." I urge softly.

He gives. "You aren't in any pain are you?"

"Pain? No. I feel fine. Why?"

He fidgets slightly. "I sought… You may be hurt."

_Why would he- *gasp* Ohhhhh._ "You're still feeling guilty about our last duel."

He shuts his eyes. I walk down the hall, signaling for him to follow.

"I just vanted to make sure you veren't puttink on a brave face."

"I wouldn't hide something like that. And Russet's magick is top notch. E would scold you if e heard what you were saying."

He smiles a little, we head down the stairs. Something else is bothering me, I press my luck, hoping this won't make him too uncomfortable. "It was an accident, an accident that I survived. You saw that you made a mistake and you rushed to rectify it. I forgive you okay? I'm not going to look at you any differently, so please quit fretting over it."

"But you can just forgive me? Just like zat? Lumina you almost died!" He raises his voice.

_ If only he knew how much I've had to forgive._

"Of course, you didn't mean it Papa. And I don't have any permanent damage. If I did, things wouldn't be the same between us. But what happened back there was forgivable."

He seems to understand. Still, he remains tense.

"Papa, there is one thing I don't understand. But I may be wrong."

"And vat vould zat be?" He says quietly.

"When the accident happened, and I was on the ground… I heard you speaking to me. I didn't hear all of it, and you were speaking so fast. Plus I wasn't completely conscious, so I think I may have heard you wrong."

His face shows worry. "But. I thought I heard you say- 'I can't lose you too.'?"

He stops and his pupils swell to nearly mask his snowy blue eyes in cold blackness.

"D-did I? Say something wrong? Like I said, I don't know if I-

"It vas a mistake."

I shut up.

"I didn't mean to say zat. I vas panicked. It's just…" He looks to me. "I sought I vas goink to have to relive zee vorst day of my life. I sought I vas goink to have someone I love die in my arms again. And it vas goink to be my fault."

I gasp. "This has happened before?!"

He releases a long and winded sigh. "Come. I have a feelink vee are goink to be talkink for a vhile."

We sit on the steps. "Ven I saw you, vith your eyes closed and strugglink to breathe. I assumed zee vorst. And ven I checked your vitals, I saw zat you vere slippink avay from me. Your heart vas about to give out."

That gives me a weird feeling in my chest. I'm suddenly more aware of my heartbeat.

"It vas just like ven he died. In my arms, his heart vas givink vay. Only he had a puncture vound srough his chest, and he bled out. He died just like zat. Gaspink for air, eyes shut, in my arms, unable to move. And I could do notink. I could only vatch him die. He called for me… He called my name. Sose vere his last vords."

"Who?" I whisper.

Papa clenches his fist. "Zee love of my life."

_No… Don't tell me._

"He vas… Mundane. An American. Hehe. Taught me most of my Englisch. I met him in Germany, he vas a travelink musician. Played zee guitar."

_No. No. No._

"I vas younger, just started doink my vork huntink criminals for zee High Court. I had finally become Zee Tempest by zen. He vas young, handsome, foreign, makink good money. Came to my country for a performance. I love music, zat's vat bound us togeser. Our love of music- of zee arts." He continues. "I frequently patroned zee theater. Music soothes zee savage beast as zey say. And it's true. Kept me from goink mad, it did. All zee sinks I've seen, all zee sinks I've _done._ I vas at zee concert hall for my usual dosage of healink. Zat's vere I first saw him. I heard him sing, I heard him play. And ohhhh, I had never heard a voice so angelic. He sang purely in Englisch, but I didn't care. I hadn't a clue as to vat he vas sayink. But it did not matter, zat did not make it any less beautiful. Ven he sang, I can almost svear time itself stopped to listen."

My heart sinks.

"I vas smitten. Hypnotized by him. I vas a loner, not goot vith people, maybe zat's vhy I stood out to him. It's zee only explanation I have as to vhy he vould remember my face from zee crowd. But after zat performance… I never missed a chance to attend any of his schows. I alvays sat far to zee corner, avay from zee crowd or high up in zee balconies. I admired him from afar. It's not as if I expected us to go anyvhere, to do anysink. Hehehe. I didn't even sink vee vould get a chance to _speak_ to anoser." He swipes back his hair. "Got zee surprise of my life ven he came up to me one day, speakink fluent German! He told me zat he knew I vas a regular, and zat my face vas _unforgettable._"

In his eyes, I can see Papa going back in time.

"Vell, I'll spare you zee details. He vould approach me after each schow, and I vould barely utter a vord. As much I liked zee lad, I didn't vant anytink to happen betveen us, I vas still in denial zat it could. But it did, somehow. He did most of zee talkink, I simply tolerated him, puschink my feelinks aside. I adored zee man, but he couldn't know zat. Our talks became valks, and our valks became visits and our vistits became…" He clears his throat. "Ven he found out I played zee piano, it vas over. Zere vas no avoidink him now. Vee schared tips, and played togeser, and I suppose a romance vas inevitable."

_Papa…_

"I'd raser not get too into zat. Years vould pass before vee eventually confessed our love for each oser. And vee began to build a life. I vas on friendly terms vith his parents, he vas vith mine. His parents vere vonderful folk. Zey didn't discriminate, and zat vas rare for zee time period. Back in my time, men couldn't marry oser men. It vas considered, **an abomination.** But for magick folk- no one vould even bat an eyelash. Zat vould not happen for us however, because he vas a mundane. And ven magick folk marry zee mundane you have to do it zee mundane vay. Vee vould never marry." I hear resentment in his voice.

"I vanted him to live vith me, in my villa. But zen zee var happened, and stayink in Germany vas no longer an option. I could use magick to hide, but he vould never be allowed to find me. Magickal society vouldn't allow it. I couldn't flee from zee var and have him at zee same time. But he had a plan, vee could run to America. I could gain citizenschip, stay vith his parents until vee got our funds arranged. Vee both had money, but nieser of us vere particularly rich. To him, I vas a simple agent-for-hire. A detective of sorts. And he vas a vanderink musician. Money comes and money goes."

He looks far off, almost as if he's not sitting beside me anymore, but that he is someplace else.

"Um… Which _war_ are you exactly talking about?" _It can't be._

He knows where I'm getting at. "Vorld Var II, Missy."

_Goodness… So you're at least a hundred years old if you were a grown man at the time!_

"I made it to zee states, convinced him zat my vork for zee government allowed me easy access to travel papers. And vee did it. Vee kept our relationschip a secret in public, but vee lived togeser in private. His home vas here, in New York."

_No wonder you know the city so well._

He puts an arm around me. "Zat does not mean vee didn't do any sneakink around. Zere vere underground clubs and pubs for people like us. But zat vasn't enough. Vee vanted a life, vee vanted a home. I began to make excellent vages. I had a promotion, zis vas ven I became a judge. Our little dream vas beginnink to look closer each day. It vas zis land zat vee vere goink to spend zee rest of our days in. Zis property to be precise. It vas bigger zen, and I vas determined to get as much of it as I could. I vas goink to build a splendid manor from scratch, just for us. It almost happened. You vould've had anoser Papa right now Missy, if it did. It vould've been possible vere it not for zat day… I vas vith him for fifteen years… Before it happened." His eyes glaze over.

"What happened?" I whisper.

"I don't know vhy. To zis day I don't see vhy he had to die… Vas it because he vas gay? Vas it because he didn't conscript into zee army? Vas it because _I_ as his partner vas German? Vas it because vee vere gettink rich and zat made us a target? It vas hate. Hate killed him. Hatred destroyed our little dream. Someone shot him. Right in zee street. I vasn't zere, I schould've been. He vas on his vay home from a gig, vee had a nice apartment at zee time, it vas to be our temporary place until I could afford zee land. Zee bullet hit him square in zee chest. Bystanders fled, and I vas told zee killer shouted out 'Faggot!' before he escaped."

_That **bastard.**_

Papa shakes his head, and puts a hand to his face. "It grew dark, too dark. I heard a commotion outside, people runnink down my street. I ventured outside and a couple of blocks later I found him, on zee floor. In a pool of his own blood." Papa's clenched fists begin to tremble. "No one called for help. Zey just left him sere. Because he vas a homosexual. He vas sere, slowly bleedink to death, and zee police never came. _I_ found him." He grits his teeth. "I could've saved him. Zere vas still time! All I had to do vas use my magick. If I used my magick he vould still be alive."

"But you couldn't!" I plea.

"I didn't care. I didn't care if I lost my powers. I didn't care if I lost my position, my memories. I could alvays start again, as a regular man. I just vanted him to live. But I vas out in zee open. Zere vere still people lingerink. Zey ridiculed him! Zey just stood sere and watched him die! I couldn't believe my eyes. I cursed at zem, I called out for help. Zey refused."

_This is just… Sick._

"I needed to take him to a secluded spot. If I healed him right zen and zere, it vouldn't have been just me, zee whole magickal community vould be at stake. I vouldn't be exiled, I'd be executed."

"But it's not your fault! It isn't fair!"

"My magick vasn't vat it is now, back zen. I vas skilled, but not skilled enough to hide my actions from Zee Council. I vas goink to do it anyvay. I could've done it right zen and sere and no one mundane vould know. I had zee blue magick to make sure of zat. But zee bystanders zat fled, zey vere still vitnesses. And even if my life vas forfeit, zee officials vould not vaste resources to track down each and every person zat saw zee gunman. Not for a mundane man. I knew zis. Even if I saved him, zee magickal officals vould kill him. Because he had to die, his vound vas fatal. Zere vas no vay to explain it if he survived. Too many people saw, too many people _knew._ It vas a hate crime." He grips me closer to him. "So I held him, it vas all I could do. He vas already at death's door. He vas so veak, he couldn't even open his eyes… He called my name, spat up blood and zat vas it. He vent limp. Dead."

I exhale, at a loss for words.

_There really was nothing he could do. _

_Think about the medicine during that time. Even if he healed him partially to make it look like he survived naturally, that wouldn't explain how the bullet was removed, or how he could survive such a heavy amount of blood loss. Even if Papa used a blast of magick to clear out the space and make the witnesses in the area forget, that doesn't reach any person who saw and fled or the killer themselves. _

_The police didn't even arrive for the poor man, what hospital would take him in if Papa somehow bought him time? There would be no explaining his survival, Papa would be stripped of his powers and only delaying the inevitable, because The Council would kill him anyway._

_ All he could do was watch. Watch the person he loved slip away into lifelessness. In his arms. The man died a slow and painful death, and the people nearby were laughing at him?!_

"Did you… Ever find out who did it?"

In this very moment, Papa gives me a look that makes my skin prickle.

"_Oh._ **I DID.** I hunted him down. And I killed him. I killed him vith my bare hands!"

_How did he get away with that?! …Never mind I don't want to know._

He chuckles darkly. "Heheheh. Did it zee fair vay. So I couldn't be tracked. Didn't use magick. I used _money._ He vasn't too hard to find after zat. I made sure he **_suffered _**before he died. Nice and slow…"

I can sense Papa approaching a state of mind that I don't want him to be in._ I need to change the subject._

"What was his name?" I finally let out.

He sighs again, a pained expression on his face. I feel guilt well up in my chest for making him relive this horrible memory.

"He vas born here in America, but his parents vere svedish immigrants, so his name von't sound familiar."

I nod.

"Stellan. His name vas Stellan. It means… 'Calm'."

I close my eyes, absorbing the information... _"Calm"._

"So you can see vhy I vould let sometink like zat slip, ven you vere lyink on zee ground, as he vas. You looked too similar. It broke me. It brought all of sose emotions back. Only zis time, it vas vorse."

_"Worse?"_

"I lost him already. I've lived my life and have grown old vithout him. I've dealt vith my grief and made my peace. But for you, dear Lumina. You… You're all I have left of zat dream. I sought I vas goink to lose you too. And if I ever did…" He looks away. "I don't sink I vould recover zis time... I vould go mad. I'd lose it, for sure. Losink you is more zan I can bear. It vould _destroy_ me."

Papa breaks out of character. "Until I came to my senses zat is. I'm a vizard, and luckily, so are you! So I healed you. Vas mighty stupid of me to panic like zat. It's a vaste of precious time. Ahaha! Vat an old fool I've become. Oh vell, all is right as rain."

I'm creeped out by his sudden change in mood. "How about I make dinner?"

Evening is spent chatting lightly over dinner. Papa gives me tips to work on my spell-casting and puts emphasis on me mastering my affinities, not so much trying to do everything at once. The plates are washed and I must head to bed early because I have to wake up at 3:00 am tomorrow to make it to the airport on time.

_I keep waking up because I don't know if I should just get up, turn the light on and start writing my will._ I shake my head._ Shut up, Lumie. You're being an idiot._

It isn't long before my alarm begins blaring, I shut it off with a groan. I barely got _any _sleep last night. _That's it, it's time to go._ "Ugh…" I rub my eyes, desperate for more sleep. _Curse you, Potsdam, for giving me so much room to doubt! That woman doesn't explain anything that she does. I doubt she even thinks it through, not on how it affects others besides herself._

I scoff. "Pffft. Guess who _I_ sound like." I wash, I dress, I grab my suitcase, my book bag, and I don't forget my letters. Papa takes me to the airport, but not before he buys me a yummy breakfast burrito made with egg whites, mozzarella cheese, chopped cherry tomatoes, salt, pepper and spinach wrapped in a corn tortilla that's all grilled to melty perfection.

Papa makes a pit-stop to the airport newsstand, and sends me off with a hug, kiss and a bag of trail mix to eat on the plane. He wishes me luck and to make him proud. I'm told not to hesitate if I want to come back.

I'm sat next to the window, blankly munching, staring out at the sky, I can't help but fret. _Not about me this time, but Papa. About that conversation we had on the steps. My grandfather has been through so much. Too much. _It humbles me… I shouldn't be so worried about this trip, about the letter. I shouldn't have been as worried last night as I was, either. And without effort I catch up on some much-needed sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

I awake with a start to the clambering of passengers and the speaker overhead. I yawn, stretch, clean my face and make way for the people in front of me first. After finally reaching the pick-up area, I notice my bags are nowhere to be seen. Just as I begin to worry, a familiar "Yoohooooooo~! " rings behind me.

I turn around, shocked. There's Potsdam, dressed in a soft, baby-pink buttoned shirt, a long, white flowing skirt with delicate, washed-out rose prints, a sunhat and sandals. She whistles me over, my rutty backpack and small, worn-out roller suitcase already in her hands. _She looks so… Normal._

She hurries her way over to me, I casually walk towards her. She picks up speed at the last couple of steps and brings me in for a tight squeeze. "Oooh hellooo, my little flower. What a joy it is to see you again!" She squeals.

_I can't… Breathe… Urk!_

She releases me, I exhale in relief. "Come on, come on, off we go!" She cajoles.

Onlookers smile and giggle at us. To them she's probably my flightly, ditzy, over-excitable aunt. And I'm her darkly-dressed, much-too-serious, teenage neice.

_Is this really the same woman who wrote me that cryptic letter?_

She happily hums and walks with a skip in her step. "Marvelous summer, is it not?" She suddenly starts.

"Huh? Oh. Oh. Yes, it is. Sure is hot though."

She turns her head to me. "Isn't it?! I could not believe how early I as able to grow my tomatoes. It's been so hot my poor begonias have wilted, they need constant watering."

"Yeah, delicate." I nod.

We exit the airport.

"Why don't we get ourselves a spot to eat?"

_She can't be serious!_ "But what about-?"

She shushes me with a finger to my lips. It's incredibly soft and smells like peaches. "Now, now. You've had a long flight. And it is a lovely day. I cannot resist a cup of tea and a plate of sweets on a day like this. Maybe with some fresh fruit? Follow me, darling. There's this charming little bakery in town, they know me well."

Deeply confused, I follow her into town.

It's a beautiful neighborhood. Flowering bushes and fruiting trees, green lawns, stone walls and roads. The homes remind me of old-fashioned doll houses. I feel, oddly, out of place. I'm dressed in my grey shirt with thin, black stripes at the sleeves and collar, black jeans and sneakers, with my hair in a braid. _I look incredibly emo compared to the townsfolk. And lower-class._

We walk up to a small brown building huddled between the other shops. On its glass windows it reads "Exquisites Bakery" in gold, script lettering. I open the door for Potsdam, which causes a light tinkling of the door chimes.

"Oh, why thank you Lumie. How kind of you."

I only nod.

I'm greeted by the smell of cakes, muffins and buns baking in the oven. The collective scent of sugar makes my nose tingle. I also smell the deep, rich fragrance of coffee. The lighting is warm and bright, the flooring and walling are wood. The counters and shelves are filled with all sorts of treats: cupcakes, cookies, pies, fresh bread, you name it. On the walls are candy cases loaded with home-made sugary sweetness. There are a couple of tiny tables and chairs on the inside by the front windows, and a couple more on the outside under umbrellas. Wherever there is spare space, potted plants add to the general décor. It's not very big, but it's pretty and snug. _She's right, this place is charming._

Potsdam is greeted heartily. "Petunia! Good to see you again. Will you be having the usual?" The friendly baker woman greets. Her voice is loud and welcoming, she is stout and dark-skinned, with her brown hair tied neatly back in a bun, dressed in her plain, green clothes and an apron.

"Eunice. How nice to see you as well. How's your husband?"

They greet each other with kisses on the cheeks.

"He's better, much better. That salve you gave him healed his burn real quick! It's getting better by the day. And he says the pain is barely there anymore! I don't know how you do it Petunia. All home-made remedies? You must be a wizard."

She giggles daintily. "You flatter me Eunice. I'm glad to hear he is well. Just make sure to use the cream I mixed after the wound has healed. It'll help reduce scarring. Yes, I'll take the usual by the way. And I've brought a friend with me. This is Lumina, an older student of mine. What would you like dear?"

I shake Eunice's hand, she has a firm grip. "Nice to meet you. Umm. I'd like a baguette please."

"That's all you're gonna eat? Don't be shy now, sweets are a girl's best friend! Why don't you try one of our brownies?"

I smile shyly, trying to be polite. "I'm alright, my Papa gave me chocolate bar, and I'm not finished with it yet. I'd really like to try your bread though, and I'll take a cappuccino too while I'm at it."

This is enough to please her. "You must be 'daddy's little girl' for him to spoil you like that. Wish I could say the same about my son. He's such a mama's boy!"

"More like 'grandpa's little girl'." I correct.

"Ah. I like to see young people respecting their elders, we don't get enough of that these days. Especially for those like you, in the troublesome years."

"Oh Eunice, isn't the boy only three?"

She chuckles. "Yeah, but I sure do wish he'd spend more time with his dad! I need a break from rearing_ the both of them._"

We're seated by the window, a small table for two. Potsdam returns with a tray of fruit tarts, a slice of cheesecake, her own small kettle of floral tea and my stuff. _It looks like we're going to be eating for a while._

She sits down. "Do feel free to nibble on my pastries if you're still hungry."

"Thank you."

We begin eating. I'm still confused however, _what about the emergency? She couldn't have eerily urged me over to have tea and sweets._

"Lumie dearie." She says with seriousness.

_T-this must be it. I spoke too soon._

"Would you be a dear and share some of your chocolate with me?"

_…WHAT?_

Astonishingly, I retain composure and hand her the bar from my bag. She helps herself to a few pieces. "Mmm. Thank you, you're so generous. Mmm." She nibbles.

_I want. To scream. SPEAK TO ME WOMAN! Why am I here? Where's the danger?!_

"I suppose now would be a good time to tell you why I've called you over here."

I perk up.

"I suggest you start eating, you wouldn't want your delicious hot drink to go cold, or your toasted bread to go stale would you?"

_Ah. Yes. I'll take the hint._

"I've brought you here because I thought this would be a pleasant change of pace from the academy. After all, I did pull you from your vacation."

I sip my drink.

"It's also best to fill you up and calm you down before you return to Iris. It'll buy us time. Hieronymous doesn't know you're here yet."

"Wait. What? Wouldn't he be expecting me?"

"In fact, he doesn't know I called you over here at all. He'll find out soon enough. What a surprise he's in for when he discovers I've brought his pretty, little wife to him him." She winks from behind her tea cup.

I blush at her comment.

She notices. "You really are quite pretty, Lumina."

I choke on my drink. "*Ahem!* T-thank you. But-"

"Oh, don't be so modest. It's something you should be more aware of actually. You're going to need to be more confident from now on."

"Why?" I give her a look.

"Lumie, forgive me for being so brash. I'm sure you're very confused."

_'Then get to the point!' Is what I want to say…_

"You see, I've been doing some studying. I don't really like to study, but in this case, I must. I'm sure you remember that pesky manus."

I stiffen. "How could I forget?"

"Well that manus has been popping up recently. Looking much too smug nowadays. It has made me suspicious. So I've been monitoring it."

"Go on."

"Normally, a spirit in service only appears when summoned, but if a positive relationship between servant and master is present, most of the time they are allowed to roam freely as they please. When that is not the case, they tend to dwell in whatever plane they come from, and are only bothered to come out if a duty must be performed." She finishes her tart. "The latter is Hieronymous's case."

_So he's not buddy-buddy with his manus. That's not hard to believe._

"It's not impossible for the spirit to roam around without a call, just unusual, especially for one so hostile. It's prohibited from doing anything or showing itself to the students, but for what reason would that manus have to be wandering around the school at night?"

_Yes, I get it. If they don't particularly like each other, why would the manus want to hang around? There's not much it can do anyhow in the school with its limitations._

"I've had my brownies tail the spirit. It seems to frequently visit the particular cellar in which I bound you and Hieronymous in holy matrimony."

"What is it doing there?"

"On occasion it'll revisit the room where you first met the beast. And I've been told it has crossed through the detention room? Not only that, but when Hieronymous is not in his chambers, the manus has been found to circle his bed, his bathroom, and even visit your dorm."

_Now I'm getting worried._

"It even had the nerve to question Hieronymous where his new bride had gone. Of course, you know, he was not having that. He dismissed his spirit immediately, but since the altercation that manus has been quite the stalker." She eats another chocolate. "Even worse, it's had the gall to make snide, inappropriate comments, even in Hieronymous's presence! It is becoming more defiant, it's cocky. That spirit is up to something, or he knows something that we don't. Which would explain his recent behavior. It would appear that Hieronymous is losing his control over the manus."

My eyes bulge, I sit up quickly.

"Be calm, be calm. Not physical control. Just respect. The manus is disrespectful, more so, than usual." She sighs. "Hieronymous has never had a way with the spirit folk, and even with his own kind he is not particularly pleasant. The manus looks down on him, but it is sworn to his service, so you can see why they maintain a strict working-relationship. And nothing more." She folds her hands over the table. "The manus's behavior made me do some digging. I was very concerned about the specifity of the locations it likes to frequent. Why now of all times it would begin to display this behavior, and not from the very start of their contract? Their dislike of one another would explain its rudeness, but not its calculative stalking and wandering. The brownies also brought up that it is known to mumble, smile, and even laugh to itself when these events occur. I couldn't ignore this. So when I connected the dots, the subject of your marriage came to mind."

I motion for her to continue, finishing my baguette, which is keeping me from biting my cheeks in worry.

"That manus seems too interested in your whereabouts and well-being Lumie. And I can safely assume it's not out of genuine care for your health. After looking through my books for anything that would make sense of the matter, I decided to check the validity of your marriage contract, just to be safe."

_The validity?!_

"And it's a good thing I did, because it looks like I found this out right on time." She takes my hands. "That manus is still after your soul Lumie. He is eager to have it. And he truly believes that he is going to get it."

"Why would he think that?!"

"That is because I overlooked a significant detail to the contract. We all did. Except the manus. And if this issue isn't resolved he _will_ have rightful claim to your soul. And Hieronymous will lose his magic."

"What is it? Tell me what I have to do to fix this!"

She smiles happily. Shattering the seriousness of the moment. "You and Hieronymous need to go on a honeymoon!"

"…**_WHAAAAAT?!_**" I shout much-too-loudly, earning some stares from passers-by.

"See? Easy-peasy. It's an intimate matter, which is why I did not want Mr. Atchung to know of this little issue. This is the business of husband and wife, and he has no right to meddle. He wouldn't be able to anyhow, but his knowing would only makes matters worse. You know how he and your husband don't get along. Tsk, Tsk. Silly boys."

_You've got to be kidding me!_ "W-w-w-why would we _have to_ go on a honeymoon?!" I stutter, still in shock.

"Why, to consummate your marriage of course! That's what honeymoons are for Lumie. They're quite enjoyable." She winks.

_ This. This... This lady is nuts!_ "But Headmistress-"

"Ah,ah,ah,ah!" She interrupts.

I groan and roll my eyes. "But Petunia, this isn't an arranged marriage, I made no promise to produce heirs! Consummation isn't necessary, we have every right to have a much or _as little_ sex as we want."

"But there's the key, Lumie. Even if you don't have much of it, or never have it at all. You would still need to do it _at least once_ for your marriage to be considered fully valid. After that you're free to be as kinky as you please."

_Those last words did not just come out of her mouth!_

Before I can speak, she goes on. "I understand you are expressing your rights as an individual. Believe me, the magical world does not endorse or accept the forcing of any person into unwanted, non-consensual, sexual activity. But in our world, even with arranged marriages, the couple is fully aware of what is expected from their marriage contract. In our world, people do not marry people they do not intend to have sex with. And asexual beings have differing marriage rites. Arranged marriages are more business deals than actual marriages, but still, both parties are fully-aware, and everyone's general terms are specific to their situation. Producing heirs is not a requirement, unless agreed upon the two. Sometimes a person is wrongfully pressured into marriage by outside parties, and that is a sad situation. But it is still a conscious decision." She finishes her cake. "In your situation, I bound you two as adults, in a legal, _binding_, magical contract. And that is where I made my mistake. I forgot to mention this to you sooner, it completely slipped my mind. In cases where one of the spouses is too young to engage in sexual activity, the requirement of consummation is delayed. It still has to happen, but not until that young person is old enough. And that elongates the term of their marriage as well. I gave you two the shortest-termed contract in magical matrimony. The year and a day. But by doing that in our haste to make it as quick and painless as possible, I also gave you a crippling time-limit. It slipped my mind that you two would be bound on _adult-standards_ because I forgot that you are of the legal age to consent. Not only that. But you have lost The Trace, which gives me nothing to excuse you from being treated as a full-member of magical society. You are an adult, plain and simple. You agreed to be married, _bar the circumstances_, you agreed to be married. You had the choice to not agree, but in your case agreeing was the far better option. It's still a choice, and therefore consent. According to the law you knew what you were getting into."

I feel an indescribable rage building up inside me. "But I didn't know what I was getting into! It was a life or death situation! And now you're telling me _I have to have sex when I'm clearly not ready?! This is against my will! How is this consent?_" I slam the table slightly.

She frowns. "But this is a clear example of what I mentioned earlier. Being _pressured_ into a situation. You still have your choices, Lumie. Your options are just not very good. But they are still options. And you can choose to not consent, but you will have to bear the consequences."

I shut my eyes and shake my head violently. "But it isn't fair! There's no exception available to me at all?"

"Sweetie, in our society, things like this_ aren't supposed to happen._ People in our society don't get married unless they _want to._ That is why the laws are the way they are. It also protects people pressured into arranged marriages by their families. The have the choice to not consent, which nullifies the marriage. It allows them to bide their time, it gives them the power of choice even after the ceremony has been held. These laws protect us. Your case is very unique. In your case, we do **not** want to nullify your marriage. That is why this must happen."

I slump in my seat. Suddenly feeling very sick. My throat grows tight and I can feel my eyes watering.

_It makes me fed up because she's right. The laws are fair. Couples who are perfectly in love want to consummate their marriage. People who actually agree to have arranged marriages get something out of the deal. People who are forced, tricked or coerced into arranged marriage have the ability to not consent- which frees them from the contract. That could be a life-saver for some people. _

_My case is different. I have loose marriage terms and a short contract. But I still have to consent. Marriages need to be consummated to become fully valid. That isn't a controversy in a society that only marries people based on their conscious decisions. Marriage is a happy occasion, honeymoons are looked forward to. _

_And unless I'm androgynous or asexual and can prove it- which I can't. I can't get out of having sex with my husband. Worse yet, I only have until the term is up, which means it has to happen soon. Too soon. I've been caught in an air-tight loophole._

"There, there. It's not so bad. Again, I'm sure this was not the wedding, or honeymoon a girl dreams of. But you'd only have to do it once. And we have methods of making the process easier."

I look up at her from my hands. "How?" I say in a trembling voice.

"Well, sex is all that needs to happen. And believe me, sex isn't hard. You don't have to push out any babies, that's one thing to be happy for."

I sniff. "Also, as long as you give consent, it can be almost any kind of sex. There isn't even a need to finish. And you can engage in other things that might make you feel better."

_ I can't believe The Headmistress is having this conversation with me._

"Again, it's your choice. You can even be put to sleep if you want, or have it wiped out of your memory afterwards. If you want it so, we can make it so that you'd feel like it never happened. And if you're really gung-ho about the whole 'virgin' thing. Reconstruction is an additional option. I _am_ a green mage."

_This is really happening… This is going to happen._

"Now you know why you needed to be brought back here immediately. I figured it'd be better to let you know now rather than the night before your anniversary. It'll give you two time to prepare. Get a kick-start on things."

"Does he know?" I croak, fighting back tears.

"Hm?"

"Does he know about this? Was he even aware of it? _If he knew about this all along and didn't tell me-_"

"No dear. He has no clue. I told you first. Like I said, he doesn't even know that you're here yet."

I sigh and pull at my hair. _I don't know if I should be relieved or even more worried._

"Well, we're done here. It's about time we returned to Iris. The remedial courses are about over by now. He'll be free for the rest of the day, and you two can catch up!" She adds happily. "Now I'm going to hand this tray back and give Eunice a nice tip. You wait right here. Dry your eyes Lumie. Here you are."

She hands me a cold, moist, hanky from who-know's-where because she doesn't have any pockets. It smells like strawberries and cream. I clean my face as she walks back into the shop.

I still want to cry.

_I have to have sex with my professor…_

The cab ride is spent with me ignoring the ramblings of Potsdam as I silently think to myself. _I'm so upset. I don't think I could be more upset. I left school happy and hopeful, but now my hopes have been crushed. I was so eager to see him again, and now I dread seeing his face. I was okay with the possibility of a romance. I find him extremely attractive, I enjoy his company, we even kissed! But I am nowhere near ready to escalate what we have that drastically. It's going to shatter our fragile bond. _

_I wanted to work my way up to more adult things. I'm already married, I've come to terms with that. And we established that we have a mutual attraction to each other. But I still know so little about this man! I haven't even met his family. As much as I like him, it still freaks me out that I have this weird-thing, whatever it is, with my professor. I was looking forward to establishing trust, building a real relationship. Not something that was hurried and necessary and a matter of life or death. I was looking forward to having a choice._

_But I can't have that can I?! No. I can't even choose when I want to have sex! Or who I have sex with! This is impossible!_

_I want to break something. I want to rip something up, shatter something into a million pieces, or set something on fire. That would be nice. _

_This is the same man who flung me against the wall when he found out news of our betrothal caught wind. The same man who makes snarky comments, is much-too-sarcastic, gives demerits and detention for no good reason, actively scares his students into submission and has blamed me for a myriad of things I did not do. He overreacts, he underestimates me and he's too high and mighty. _

_I've forgiven that because I truly believed that I was going to have time to get to know this man. That we could be friends. Possible lovers after what happened on May Day..._

_ But that'll never happen now. Once he gets word of this, I know just how he's going to react:_

_ He's going to fume, boil and burst. Then he's going to shut me out, refuse my company, reject my advances, and never get to know me or like me. Because he's going to feel the same way I do… Trapped. And if he feels forced into something, he's going to fight it. Good intentions or not. _

_And after this. After we've…. How is he going to look at me? _

_This woman he had to marry who he barely even knows, first met not too long ago, and that he banged that one time?_

I can feel the tears welling up.

_I can't have him look at me that way! I don't want him to have my body just for 'strictly business'. I wanted a chance. This is going to ruin my chance. I can't even blame him for wanting to divorce me after this. I'm sure he's not ready to have sex with me either._ _He has to… Has to… You know?! It's an invasion of his privacy, a violation of his body. This is just as much unfair to him as it is to me. _

_How can I expect him to want to build a relationship with me when we've already done **everything** without getting to know each other? _

_How do you bounce back from that? What if we're so negatively impacted by this that we can't look past it without feeling wrong? I was ready for holding hands, kissing, going on dates! I wanted courting, not… Not… _

_I don't even know how to do it! And if we do the sleep-thing, that's really not going to make him want me now. I have to be this limp, unconscious body that he…. Or we do it and I cry and resist and then he has to wipe my memory. Or better yet, we do it. Get in, get off, get out. No feeling, no passion, just… Necessity._

_ Oh no! What if he's the one that wants to be put to sleep? Then I'd have to…_ I whimper unintentionally. _No, no, no! I can't do that!_

_I don't see us growing closer after this. I don't see myself being the same. _

_It's my body! Why? Sex is supposed to be this wonderful, romantic, mystifying... Thing. Not… Not… THIS! And it's going to be my first time?_

"Here we are. Welcome back to Iris, Lumie." Potsdam chirps.

I put on a straight face.

We enter the swirly gates and I'm back to my small, private, boarding school for witchcraft and wizardry. Despite the circumstances, I missed this place. And I'm happy to be here. Just as I'm thinking of the multiple ways I can approach Professor Grabiner. It's him that I see, walking briskly towards the front gates, with a not-too-happy look on his face. In fact, he looks downright livid.

That doesn't stop my eyes from gluing to him, or my heart rate from picking up speed. I instinctively hide behind Potsdam, who smiles at my childish behavior.

His intoxicating voice rings past the gates. "Petunia! Where in _bloody hell_ have you been?!" He shouts.

"That is no way to talk to your boss Hieronymous." She coolly retorts.

"It _is_ such a way, if my 'boss' considers abandoning her job and running off to leave me to cover her white course appropriate behavior! You left without notice, without warning, without contacting me once you had left-"

"But I returned _with _a present for you." She coos.

"Bribery is not-"?!" She steps to the side, revealing me.

I flinch a little, then wave at him sheepishly.

He stands there, mouth open, unblinking.

"Your welcome!" Potsdam giggles.

He regains composure. "What is _she_ doing here?!"

_And just like that… All of my hope deflates._ "Pfft. Well, 'hi' to you too." I snark at him, then reach into my pocket to angrily crunch on my chocolate bar.

Potsdam laughs.

He's thrown off by the annoyance in my voice. He clears his throat. "Er. _Hello._"

"Hmph." I look away, not hiding my dissatisfaction.

He goes back to Potsdam. "This is why you shunned your duties? To interrupt her holiday and bring her here? You are meddling in matters that do not concern you."

"She needs to be here Hieronymous. This is an urgent matter."

He suddenly switches moods. "Has something happened?" He directs at me.

I nod, slowly, a pained look in my eyes.

"It's best not to discuss this here. Let us go inside." Potsdam leads us back to the school. We sit ourselves in the conference room. _Home sweet home._

"Give me a moment to bring Lumie's luggage into her room. In the meantime, you two can catch up."

Grabiner starts to speak, but before he can protest, she's out of sight. _Poof._ He groans and rubs his temples. Then he looks to me, fingers still on his head. "Are you alright?" He says softly.

I'm caught off guard by the gentleness in his voice. I exhale, unsure of where to begin.

"Has Mr. Atchung-"

"Papa is fine." I stop him there.

"Is it your family?"

I shake my head. "They are _not _my family anymore."

He hums and sits back in his seat.

I think of something, reaching into my back pocket. "Here, take this. It might have a spell on it that would prevent you from reading the real message, but I'm sure you can dispel it."

He gratefully takes the letter. "This is from Petunia." He notices.

"This is what summoned me here. Despite what she wishes, I think you should read it."

He understands and does not hesitate to begin reading the letter. He has to trace his wand over the page, but then he puts it away and resumes his reading. His eyebrows raise. "You are under the guise that we will be training you this summer in preparation for your sophomore year. That is why Mr. Atchung is not with you."

I nod.

"If you are in danger, then despite our differences I believe he should also be here to protect you."

"This is not something he can protect me from. In fact, his involvement would make matters worse."

He squints. "So you are aware of the situation."

I shrug. "Only until recently. She told me almost an hour ago, while you were still teaching the courses."

This makes him grunt in remembrance. "You are stressed about it." He remarks.

I sigh. _He doesn't even know the half of it. I'm stressed about the further stress that is to come._

"Then tell me-"He begins.

But Potsdam returns much-too-soon. He quickly folds and stuffs the letter into his side pocket.

"Done. Did you enjoy your chat while I was gone?"

"For what purpose, are we avoiding Mr. Atchung? And why is it under the assumption that we are going to engage his granddaughter in rigorous study and practice?"

"Ah. So you did talk. That's good. Have you heard the news yet?"

"And what is this 'news'?" He frowns.

"Ah. So you didn't get to that part yet."

He taps his fingers on the table. "_Do tell._" He says, mocking casualty.

She sits herself on the table. "Your manus knows something that we don't Hieronymous."

He switches to dead seriousness.

"To be precise, he knew something that we didn't. Until now." She raises a finger for emphasis.

He is not fazed. "This information was considered vital enough to drag a student on holiday from her home and back to her boarding school, without her legal guardian's full knowledge of the matter."

"Yes." She insists.

"Then quit beating around the bush and get on with it."

_Woah. Took the words right out of my mouth._

"Both her soul and your magic are at risk. There is a detail that we have overlooked regarding your marriage contract." She has his full attention. "Do you remember how old your wife is?"

He scoffs. "She is nineteen years of age. Get straight to the point."

She leans closer to him. Edge in her voice. "Do you. Remember. How old. Your **_wife_** is?"

He looks as if he's about to insult her, but then his face goes stone cold.

"That's right you thick-headed man. You have a wife. And she is of legal age to validify her marital status."

"This can't be true!" He suddenly rises from his seat.

"It is true. And there is no way to avoid it. You have until your first anniversary to consummate your marriage with Lumina, otherwise she will die and you will be exiled."

He is speechless. He darts his eyes towards me, to which I can only respond with a fearful gaze of my own. With that as his answer, he slumps back into his seat.

"Your manus was aware of this, and has been sneaking around at night looking for Lumina. He has even gone to such lengths where he visits the dungeons and absorbs the surrounding magic, hoping to retrieve the memory of the space. I've had my brownies track him, and just so you know-He mocks you in his spare time Hieronymous."

I can sense his anger. His humiliation.

"I see." Is what he manages to say through gritted teeth.

"There you have it. I hope you understand that The Tempest must never find out about this. Or it'll be our heads."

"No. It may ruin your chance of further funding and it would be _my_ head!"

"Just be happy that we discovered this early Hieronymous. You two have plenty of time to get acquainted."

He flares up. "Happy? _Happy?!_ You expect me to be happy about this?! That I have to-"He stops.

"**Hieronymous!**" She shouts.

But it's too late. He didn't realize soon enough. My feelings have already been hurt. He immediately turns to me. _No you idiot. I'm not crying._ I take a small breath, stand up, walk out the room, and shut the door.

Outside the door I can hear their muffled arguing. "Now look at what you've done! That is no way to talk about your wife! Imagine how insulted she must feel. You insensitive man!"

"It might have done us both better, if you had bothered to TELL ME FIRST!" He screams.

_I've had enough._ I will my mana to run through, and teleport to the back lawns of the school. I sit on the grass with a sigh. _Well, I've heard his answer._ Here I let my emotions wash over me. I run my fingers through the grass.

_I thought that I would be able to sympathize with him. But it seems he's taking this as some form of repulsive punishment. I did my freaking out too. But I never said I didn't want to… I just said I wasn't ready._

_ I never felt disgusted by the idea of having sex with him. I was simply afraid. I was more worried about what kind of damage this would do to the relationship that we already have, more than the 'act' itself._

_Here I am fretting over being a lousy lay, not getting a chance to fall in love first… And here he is dreading the day he has to lay with me! Simply because it's… Me._

I feel defeated. _So much for that dream. Now I have to figure out how we're going to do this. Because whether he likes it or not, it's going to happen._

I tug at the grass. _I'm **so** sorry the very **idea** of sleeping with me is **abhorrent** enough to make you **cringe. **_

_**Poor you, Professor.** 'Eww! Eww! I have to have sex with Lumina? I'd rather not. I'd really rather not. Can't I just live out my days in the dungeons instead?'_ I dig my fists into the ground.


	16. Chapter 16

A rustling noise pulls me from my thoughts.

I sense magick.

Then the sound of chirps and flapping wings.

A soft, light pressure on my shoulders. I gasp. "Is that you?"

A tiny, fuzzy something nuzzles against my cheek and lets out a whistle. I slowly lift my hand to the sound and sensation, it scurries onto my palm. When I finally look, it's a faery! _I know you._ This faery has green speckled skin, with vibrant red, yellow and orange petal wings, yellow antennae, and a deep green cape composed of leaves. The tall, curved head crest is a darker green with a stripe of yellow down the middle, and thin vines twine around es legs. The faeries seem to be sporting their summer colors now, as they change hue every season. It makes them difficult to recognize, but a few defining features never change.

But what makes this faery special is that es camoflauge is double-sided. Upon closer inspection you can see this faery can disguise itself as either a plant or an insect. Under the petals and leaves hides a shinier, harder surface. All the same colors, but arranged differently, to give a bug-carapace appearance. This faery has four wings rather than two. The colorful thick ones on top and the transparent, thin ones on the bottom. I've seen it for myself when they crouch and bend to push their leaves and petals up to imitate a plant when a person passes by. I've also seen them take flight by flipping their wings and shells around to reveal lady-bug patterns, bumble bee stripes, butterfly wings and so on. They even imitate their flight patterns.

Soon more of them gather. My heart flutters with joy and excitement. _These magnificent creatures- so beautiful, so graceful, so plucky and spirited._

I am now surrounded by the fae. Chirps, trills and whistles fill the air, along with the humming of many flapping wings. My hair is tugged, my fingers nibbled, my cheeks and nose rubbed and poked. I can't help but smile. _My friends._

"Hello everyone. I've missed you."

A chorus of tweeting and yipping.

"I've returned early, yes. There is urgent business to attend to."

Nods and trills of understanding.

I stand. "You all look so pretty."

This pleases them. They swoop upward and circle me. Exposing their wings and seasonal adornments, performing acrobatic tricks in the air.

Their leader flies up to me, face to face. Concern in es black, slanted eyes. _There's no hiding it._ "I'm sorry if I worried you, I was just feeling down. I'll be alright."

It is enough to satisfy them, and they pull at my shirt and hair to a certain spot further down the lawns. Here, they hum and sway in unison. I can feel myself getting drowsy. _They're doing it again. Whenever they break into dance or song they always try to manipulate me. The last time this happened I couldn't help myself. The next thing I knew I was singing and dancing wildly, without shame, not a care in the world._

I'm hypnotized by their movements, completely still, not unable, but unwilling to move or resist. I can hear myself humming along with them. I begin to count in time with the rhythm.

"~_Hmm-hmhm-hmmhmhm-hmmm-hmhmhmhm…_~"

Once they know I'm humming, they become more aggressive. They begin to sing, I have to pucker my mouth to keep myself from singing as well.

The haunting melody of their ethereal voices echoes in my ears. It becomes all that I can hear, no background, no ambient noise. Just the symphony of tiny voices, all different pitches, all different volumes, acting as one unit. I have to sit down, this song seems to be longer than any other tunes we've played before. I must not fall asleep. _Why are my eyes so heavy? …No, I must not. That would be disrespectful._

Somehow I manage to stay awake. They slow and stop, then within a gentle swirl of wind they vanish. Leaving behind falling petals, leaves, and feathers. Coating the grass is a shiny, glimmering substance I can only assume is faery dust.

I shake my head and rub my eyes. _Was that… Real? Or a dream?_

The sparkles in the grass answer my question. I dare to touch the alluring substance. It is soft and silky, as fluid as rain. Yet it has no weight, only gleam. Touching it sends a rush up my fingertips that quickly scurries up my arm and through my veins, until my entire body shivers. I let out a shudder.

As I compose myself, now undoubtedly awakened, I watch the rest of the dust sink into the ground. I rub my palms over the surface.

I am in awe. _Such beautiful magick…_

"There you are." An unwelcome voice says behind me.

I turn to him. _Hieronymous. No. 'Professor Grabiner'._

He scratches the back of his head. "I suppose I should apologi-"

"I don't want your apology." I cut in.

He frowns.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Is that all you can do? Apologize to me? Saying you're sorry doesn't excuse _everything_ that you do. Don't tell me you expect me to forgive you just like that because you said it."

He crosses his arms. "Leave the lecturing to me _Mrs. Grabiner._"

_So he's calling me by my title, not my name anymore. Bet he wishes he could call me Miss Nocturne again._ "Do you still expect me to forgive you?" I say once more.

"I would appreciate it if you did. You have proper reason to be offended, but it was not my intention to insult you."

I turn back around. "Intention or not, it was still the truth."

He steps closer to me. "Come again?"

I scoff. "Your true feelings came out in that room. What the first thing that flew out of your mouth? Not a question, not a concern. But a _complaint. _I was just as shocked as you were when I heard it. Probably more so. Yet, I haven't treated the situation like it was some gruesome fate." I glance back at him, hurt in my eyes. "_Would it really be that awful?_"

I can hear him exhale. "Perhaps I… Overreacted."

I shake my head. "It's not as if I didn't expect you to be upset. I was too. But I did expect better. It wouldn't have hurt so much if… Well. If May Day didn't happen."

"Oh." He says in remembrance.

I stand. "So I don't want an apology. I want action."

He looks uncertain.

Silence.

I shrug my shoulders. "I'm here, and we both know what has to happen."

"Surely you cannot be insinuating that we-"

"NO. Not YET. I'm asking you to take action. To make an effort, _with_ me. Not against me."

He shrinks a little. "How can you be so concise about this?"

"I'm not. I'm nowhere near ready for this. But ready or not, our anniversary is coming, and I don't want to die."

He nods. "Certainly not."

I step closer to him. I've settled down by now. "You and I… We… We're in a mess."

He sniffs a chuckle.

"But it doesn't have to be this way. I don't want you to see this as 'strictly necessary'. Not for something so precious."

His eyelids lower. "Precious, you say?"

I blush, realizing what I've just said. "Ah. That is. Uh. Eventually, we will be sharing our bodies with each other. And um…" _Say it dammit!_ "I-I don't want this to be a bad thing."

His expression doesn't change.

I keep babbling. "I know this sounds crazy. It's sudden, it's unfair. But… We… Kissed."

He takes another step towards me.

"That means, we must like each other. Even if it's just a little bit. And if there's at least a mutual attraction between us…"

Another step closer.

"Then, maybe we can... make this work." I finally finish.

"And how exactly, would this work?" He questions.

I sigh, aware of my reddening face. "Just because we have to do it, doesn't mean we have to do it today. I say we wait. As long as we can. Let's get to know each other first. We can… Work our way up to that."

He grins slyly. "You are offering up the idea that we establish a relationship. Beginning with small acts of courting until it leads into a more romantic direction, where you and I would engage in the more physical aspects of intimacy- preferably foreplay- before the moment arrives when we actually have sexual intercourse."

My eyes go wide and unblinking. I want to say something impressive and profound, but hearing him say the words "foreplay" and "sexual intercourse" has thrown my sense of class out the window. "YES." Is all I can answer, completely straight-faced.

He exhales in relief. "I think, that is a reasonable idea."

I sigh in equal relief. "I think I can forgive you now." I accidentally say.

"And why is that?"

"Because you didn't dismiss the idea of having a relationship with me."

"No, I did not." He simply retorts.

_Now it's awkward. A giddy, I-can't-believe-we-just-said-that awkward._

He breaks the silence. "Well, this has turned out to be an interesting development. I must admit, your antics sound profoundly more appealing than mine."

We walk away from the lawns. "What did you have in mind?" I ask.

He looks guilty. "I was going to offer you a chance to 'get it over with' right here and now."

"What? _WHAT?!_" I choke back a squeak.

"You must be aware that pursuing this marriage is not your singular option. And after hearing the sudden news, I had to accept the fact that you may no longer hold interest in seeing this through. There are ways to make the consummation process easier on you."

_ P-Pursuing the marriage? So we're not just some fling? Could he be implying we're a couple?_

"The Headmistress told me about being put to sleep, and having the memory removed from my mind. Amongst other things."

"I see. And you do not wish to utilize those spells?"

I stop walking, a little peeved. "Of course not! Why would I?"

A fraction of a smile on his face. "I am… Glad to hear that from you."

We resume our path back to the school. _You know, you may not be so bad after all._

"Do you perhaps, possess free time to spare?"

"I have nothing but free time."

"You are not eager to reunite with your companions?"

I slump. "I don't have any friends here at the moment."

To my surprise, I'm invited back to his room. As we walk down towards the Teacher's Hall, the few students that litter the hallways flee at the very sight of us. But I cannot help but notice the hushed whispers and side-glances they exchange with one another. I roll my eyes.

_This, I am not looking forward to for the next couple of years. I have to make sure absolutely, positively, NO ONE hears about the consummation clause. That's one rumor I would never live down. _

He shuts his door. "They are all idiots you know, pay them no mind."

"H-huh?" _He noticed?_

"I am aware of the social stigmas that surround our marriage. But it would be wise to remember, that _they_ are here to take remedial courses, and _you_ are not. Any word that comes from their mouths are not to be taken seriously. I doubt they can even fathom the concept of common sense."

I giggle. His defending of me makes me feel better. "Has our marriage caused you trouble? More than with the students?"

He makes a strained face. "Visiting relatives of the students have returned outraged. Particularly the wildseed parents. As they are not well-versed in our laws. The general cover-up is that you and I are married by our own free will, as you are of age to make that decision. And they will have to deal with that. My noble-born family is also a useful distraction, as it looks to some that you married me merely to ascend in economic class. It is also the fact that no one knows exactly _why_ we married in the first place. This leads to a myriad of theories, all ludicrous. In the end, our union is shrouded in mystery, and I prefer to leave it that way. However, none of this prevents me from appearing perverse."

"In other words, it's all rumors?"

He nods.

"So I'm either a gold digger, sleeping for my grades, or a really dumb, naïve girl who married an older man because she didn't know any better. And you look like a pervert because I'm so much younger than you."

"I am branded a lewd because you are my student." He corrects.

"But the official explanation is that you and I are married because we want to be. Plain and simple." I assure.

"That is correct."

"So. Does that mean everybody knows how old I am?" He shrugs his shoulders.

"Only the parents who insisted on calling the authorities. If they bothered to tell their children, then those particular students know. But again, it is not information privy to everyone, so I can assume your exact age has been exaggerated to appear as some great secret."

_I can imagine the guessing games everyone is playing right now. Who knows what they're saying about me? _"I'm sorry to hear that you had to go through that."

"Push it out of your mind. I am not fazed by the yelling. And I have only been slapped a handful of times. No magickal officials have bothered with the matter, because it is known to the community that our union is legitimate. Whether they approve is another story. But legal and legitimate it is. Petunia has made sure there is no room to doubt. And why should there be? It is the truth."

_I see. To the mundane parents it looks outrageous, and to magick folk, they could really care less. It's probably more of an outrage that he would marry someone so underclassed. Then again, what can they do about it other than gossip and complain? I get it now. Nothing we've done is against either mundane or magickal law._

"There have been threats from the mundane parents to pull their children out of the school, fearing for their safety, but none so far have been followed through. However, there is no proof that they are in any danger, and it would be discriminatory on their part."

"So they're hollow threats." I shake my head. "This is just the kind of drama you wanted to avoid."

"I believe it is the kind that _we_ wanted to avoid. You had no intention of letting the secret slip. It is your reputation after all that is far more damaged than mine."

_Ain't that the truth? Slut, idiot, and gold digger? Sheesh. I mean, he looks like a pervy old man who jumped at the first opportunity to bang a teenager, but hey, it's all legal. So what can ya do? _

"Are there any other concerns you would care to address?"

"Yes, actually. Papa believes that I'm going to be training. Is that just a farce or am I really going to learn something here?"

He scoffs. "You are at school, of course you are going to learn. However, whether or not you choose to make use of this summer for further study is up to you."

"I think I should."

He approves, I can tell. "Then I would be happy to assist you with that. It may also help my research."

"You mean your theory on 'witches'?"

"I mean my theory on your particular method of spell casting. That term is still up for debate. It was an interesting thought, nothing more."

_I don't fully believe that, but perhaps he is sparing my feelings._

"If that is all there is to cover, shall we… Catch up?"

"We should." I say, feeling as though some burden has been lifted. Slightly, not fully. It is still there, and it will be grow heavier as the approaching deadline for our marriage comes to a close, but I am comfortable knowing that he will be helping me along. It won't just be sprung on me in the moment. "So, why didn't you send me a letter yet?"

He looks confused for a moment, then slaps his forehead in shock. "I confess that it has slipped my mind. As you probably know, Abd Al-Aziz has been ill-behaved of late. I was thoroughly distracted."

_A-ah-ab-ad-abd- what?_ "Is that the name of your manus?"

"Yes. Do take care to learn how to pronounce it properly, for it would be offensive otherwise. It could be easily mispronounced to mean a many other things."

"What does his name mean? He is a _he_, isn't he? Potsdam addressed him as male."

"It is old Arabic. The name bestowed upon him by my forefathers long ago, in the language of his native homeland. The primary words 'Abd al' means 'servant of' and the secondary 'Aziz' means 'powerful'. It is a literal translation. There are other stems of 'Abd al' that branch off into similar definitions. Always the 'servant of' but whatever follows varies. 'Al-Hamid, Al-Karim, Al-Latif, Al-Malik, Al-Rahman, Al-Wali' and so on and so forth." He waves his hand dismissively, as if the matter couldn't be any more dismal.

_Servant of the powerful._ "Ah… Abd. No... *Ahem.* Abd. Al. Aziz?" Just in that moment, I feel a powerful sensation of fear and dread.

The room buzzes with magick. I can hear a low humming. In a rising mist of purplish-blue smoke, the manus appears. With a toothy grin and a sweeping bow, he speaks. "You _called_ for me madam?"


	17. Chapter 17

I couldn't help myself. I jump back in surprise, eyes wide. Then I remember who it is, and I quickly steel myself.

He chuckles at my distress. "How good it is to see you again, madam. _Wherever_ have you been?" He draws out his long, slivery tongue.

I cringe both internally and externally.

"That is none of your concern, I did not call for you. Leave us!" Grabiner orders.

With a dangerous scowl, the manus evaporates, but not before it leaves me with a few parting words. "Until next time, my **delicioussss** missstressss…"

The professor cracks his knuckles with the force his fists are clenching.

_D-delicious?_ I shoot him a worried glance.

"I will not let him harm you. Ignore him, he is merely being an _ass._"

_ Woah. I don't think I've ever heard you cuss before._

He sighs. "That is why I have been unable to send you a letter. My periods of privacy are brief, and at times I find myself overwhelmed, especially since I must tend to the students. Covering Petunia's courses is an additional source of distraction."

I'm still shaken by the hungry look in the manus's eyes. _Not even hungry. **Starving.** As if he hasn't seen food in years. He looked at me as if I were the most delectable morsel he's ever seen._

The professor and I manage a bit of small talk before I excuse myself from his chambers. I make sure to tell him that Papa will expect letters of my progress if I'm going to be staying, especially if I don't return for the rest of the summer and follow up through the upcoming school year from here.

I walk back to my room, feeling as though I'm being watched.

I slump back onto my bunk. The small, plain room highlighted by my splash of color and decoration. Yet, without the fuzzy blonde head and fiery dreads of my sleeping roommates, it seems so empty. _I'm going to add more actually. Yeah, that would be a good idea, help me keep my mind off of things._ Without a moment's rest I get back up from my bed, and start to work with the rest of my crafting kit. _I still have colorful shards of glass, pretty marbles and shiny metals to work with. I have beautiful stones left as well. Turquoise, quartz, amber, coral. Let's see, what should I make?_

_I already have a dream catcher, and I used to have my wreath here, but heaven knows that was a disastrous idea. Hmm. _I look back at the ceiling._ No more illusions. I want to do this by my own hands. I'm going to decorate that ceiling. And it'll only be over my bunk so Ellen can't complain about anything falling down or dripping or whatever._

I spend the entirety of the evening creating hanging charms. I manipulate the glass to shape stars and suns and moons. I integrate the rocks and marbles to bear the likeness of elemental symbols. Fire, water, earth, air, etc. There are a few random shapes tossed in there as well. I arrange the rest of the material to make up the sky, ground, grass and trees. Small animals littered here and there, rain, snow, wind… All molded together in an ecstasy of color, forming a mosaic-stain-glass sort of contraption. It looks like a spiked wheel, quartered into sections with different seasons and scenes etched in. The charms are attached to their appropriate areas. I take a closer look at it and realize what it looks like.

"Huh. I made a magick circle."

I look at my blistered fingers, the tips sore and red, my palms swollen and calloused. _A labor of love,_ I think to myself. I toss off my clothes and sleep only in my underwear, not bothering to heal myself. I'm proud of these worn hands. _I'll find some way to hang it up in the morning._

A light knocking rouses me from my sleep. "If you would?" His haughty voice calls through.

Knowing better, I call back. "Give me a moment!" I quickly dress and smooth out my hair. Hoping my breath doesn't stink and having finished picking at my face for any morning crust, I open the door.

"Good morning to you."

I cover my mouth for a yawn. "Good morning."

"I am here to give you proper instruction. You should be informed that Monday through Friday remedial courses are available should you wish to engage in extra study. However the sessions are half of the usual length and unlike the system you are accustomed to the courses are already pre-set in schedule. On Mondays red courses are available, Tuesdays are when I shall be teaching blue magick, and the rest of the week is set for Petunia's subjects. Wednesday is reserved for green, Thursday for black, and Friday is the white course. I doubt you will occupying time and space there. Saturday is free for individual study and detention."

_He still isn't free on Saturdays. And they bother with detention during summer school? Whatever. I bet he enjoys it._

_So instead of the usual two-hour class periods I'm allowed an hour class everyday and rather than having the option of which class I feel like taking that day, I simply choose which day I want to learn what. Meaning it's exactly the same except it's easier. And apparently I'll have every Friday off._

"Thank you, that's helpful to know."

"As today happens to be Sunday, I am free to begin your tutoring. I encourage you to seek me out for your exercises Wednesday through Friday and on Sundays. Petunia has informed me that she refuses to instruct you when I am more than capable on my own. That does not mean she will not appear once in a while to check up on your progress."

I roll my eyes. "So she's forcing us to spend more time with each other and she pretty much admitted that she's going to peek when she feels like it."

"Indubitably."

"What time should I report in?"

"7am is suited to my schedule. As for the end time, I shall use today as a gauge of how long you should endure these practices."

I look at the clock. "But it's already 10:34."

"Indeed. Which means you are already late. Let us be on our way."

_Already late? I better not get detention for something that was your idea!_ "Alright, but let me at least take a quick shower first."

"No need."

"What do you mean-?"

He swipes his wand across the air forward of my face. I feel a cool, refreshing sensation, as if my entire body has been doused in peppermint. Then I can feel myself awakening and rejuvenating. The icky, morning grimy-feeling has gone and my mouth even feels cleaner.

"A basic hygienic spell. Useful when one is running short of time. You are now bathed and dried. I even had the courtesy to brush your hair."

I touch the top of my head. My frizzy head is no longer tangled and knotted. Still wild, but I can actually run my fingers through it. "Impressive!" I say happily.

He looks proud of himself. "Go on, get dressed. Meet me in the conference room no later than 10:45."

"Mhm." I nod.

He nods back, and teleports in a second.

I swipe my sleepwear for jeans, sneakers and a white t-shirt. No point in trying to look pretty for him, especially if his sessions are going to be anything like Papa's. I tie my jungle into a loose, low bun that has a long tail of hair dangling from it.

I meet him in the conference room.

"Do you have any questions before we begin? We would be starting with analysis firsthand anyway, the physical practice will commence shortly after."

_So group discussion first? No prob._ An interesting thought crosses my mind. "Actually I do have a question."

"Ask away."

"Not so much about what we will be doing, but about the school."

He urges me to continue.

"I'm confused. There are over two hundred students in the entire academy, and only two professors currently. Classes may be two hours long, but there is an hour and a half breakfast and lunch-break to consider. Even though I take one class per day, you don't. You still have the higher grades to teach, and you teach more than one subject. How is this even remotely possible?"

He snickers.

I wasn't expecting that. _Why is he laughing?_

"You seem to forget that you are student of a magickal academy. The possibilities are beyond the mundane grasp."

"Even with magick, how can you teach two subjects at the same time? The schedule is free-ranged. You have to be available every day for both blue and red class because we as the students can decide which we take and when. I can comprehend working long hours for your red class, in order to cram the entire student body in and make time for them to each get a shot at red magick. But how is this possible if blue is scheduled for the exact same time? Ginia has gone to take your red course while I head off to take blue. And we both see you that same day, she doesn't know how it works either. It's baffled me for the longest now."

He chuckles again. "She is not supposed to know. That would break the illusion."

I tilt my head, completely lost.

He straightens himself. "Breakfast is served from 6-7:30 am. Courses begin at 8am. Students are only allowed one course per day for a maximum of two hours at a time due to the strenuous nature magick can have on the body. The courses are separated by age-grades. Freshman courses and sophomore classes are held in the morning. That is from 8am to noon. Where the lunch break spans from noon to 1:30pm. Starting at 2pm the juniors and seniors have their courses available from 2- 6pm. Where the school day ends and dinner is served until 8pm. There is a four-hour window for the courses because they are taken one right after the other. Broken down, it runs like this: Freshman receive the earliest classes, the 8-10am courses. Sophomores are scheduled from 10am-noon. There is the lunch break. Then juniors are scheduled from 2-4pm. And finally the seniors are scheduled from 4-6pm. You would not have known until the upcoming term began."

_ I think I'm getting it. That explains how all of the grades have time to take their courses. Much easier than in high school when everyone started and left at the same time. But we had a lot more teachers to compensate that. One for each subject. Each subject for each grade._

"That still doesn't explain how you can be in two places at the same time. That schedule is air tight. Where do you make time to teach blue class? And what is this 'illusion' you mentioned?"

He looks all-too-pleased with himself. "Again. This is a magickal establishment. You are aware of casting illusions. Or am I mistaken? If that is the case then I am assigning you to my remedial blue courses immediately, followed by a well-deserved detention."

I gasp. _Is it really that simple?! It's just an illusion of himself in the classroom?!_ "Wait, it's a _literal illusion?_"

"Yes."

_HOW?! I mean, not how. Why? I mean, maybe not why… But. Really?!_

He seems to read my mind. "I can appear in two locations simultaneously because I can simply project an image of myself in the other classroom while I remain in my chosen one. I am never in the same classroom twice mind you. That is why the students do not rebel, there is never a certainty that the professor they are facing is an illusion. And with the aid of white magick, my mind can expand its consciousness. I am aware of all that occurs, and my projected self will react with real emotion and logical thought. It is after all, my actual mind. Just not always my physical body."

"S-s-so. You can split your mind to reach the other courses. And that is how you can remember, react and respond with authenticity. You _are_ in two places at once. Just not physically."

"Now you understand. Be convinced that my physical self is never far behind, so should any truancy occur, I will be there to deliver appropriate punishment. I am merely a classroom away. Not idling lounging in my chambers. Be sure not to make that assumption."

_Unbelievable. Will I be able to do that? …I seem to break all the rules, I bet I could if relies more on white magick than blue. But still. That's just. Mind-boggling!_

"How else would Petunia be able to perform her duties as Headmistress and teach three subjects for her entire academy? She is never there. Most of her time is spent in her office. However, she does make room in her busy schedule to attend all celebrations and ceremonies in the flesh. It is something of a personal matter to her."

_ I would've never thought._

He sits himself at the table. "On to business. Tell me, how far has your current magick progressed? What spells are at your disposal?"

_Oh YEAHHH._ "If I tell you. You have to believe me. Alright?"

He raises an eyebrow.

I don't move a muscle.

"I will consider your words truth."

"All of them."

His eyes bulge. "Come again?!" He rises from the table.

I motion my hands for him to remain calm. "It's true. I've learned all of the spells in the student spell books. For every subject."

He sits, a hand to his hat. "Incredible…"

"You should also know, even though The Headmistress came up with this plan as a cover up, ever since the previous letter, I've been training with Papa to hone my skills with a wand."

"Have you? Did it work? What methods did he use?"

I shrug. "We've been dueling."

"_Dueling?!_" He shouts.

I put my hands up again. He catches himself, and slowly exhales. "You have been dueling… With The Tempest."

"Uh-huh."

He puts a hand to his mouth. "Go on." He waves his other hand for me to keep talking.

I describe with extra detail the amount of fighting I've done this summer. How I've had to be on guard every day since that previous letter, the experimenting we've done, the strategies we've used. The outcomes of every duel. He urges me to go into depth about Papa's fighting style.

At the end of it, when there are no more questions to ask, no more things to recap, he sighs.

"Your grandfather has a very… 'Straightforward' way of dealing with things."

I smile a little. "I know. That's just how he is. But it worked. Sort of. I can duel without breaking my wand now."

"But you still cannot _use _it. And you could not reach that point without injuring yourself first."

I look away.

"At the very least, you know how to defend yourself. I will leave that in his capable hands."

He looks back to me. "What surprises me most is how brutal he sounds- coming from you. For someone he constantly dotes on, I at least expected him to show some restraint."

I rub my shoulder, almost feeling the sting of Papa's blade. "The fact that I'm not maimed or crippled is proof that he shows restraint. Other than that, if Papa ever goes any easier on you he must not like you very much."

"Mm. I will take that into consideration."

"Trust me, he may spoil me now. But when I first met him, he was nothing but a hard-ass. He had his soft spots, yes. Still, you haven't seen him tutor me. The man demands nothing less than perfection."

Grabiner sniffs a smile.

"Um. Anyway, it's not that surprising. Well, it is. But… Based on my track record, maybe I should've seen something like this happening. After all, if I can feel it I can learn it."

He crosses his arms. "But what we must teach you is not to feel. It is dangerous to rely on your emotions to protect you. And not just dangerous, but foolhardy. Free-caster or not, you still possess an immense amount of mana, with or without a catalyst. Your mana capacity has no relation to your method of spell casting, that, I am certain of. In fact, I surmise your mana levels are what make it possible for you to execute your spells so proficiently. The nature of your magick may allow you to learn and develop skills early, but to be able to master them in such a short time frame is purely thanks to your mana supply. It has already been proven here, in the academy. The other students may grasp the theory and execution of a spell, meaning, theoretically they already know how to cast it. But when a student lacks the mana to power that spell, all of the aforesaid knowledge is useless. For you, that is not the case. All you require is a vague awareness of the spell, perhaps a general definition, and there you have it. What takes others time, study and practice, takes you one moment of light reading. If your mind knows what it is, then more often than not, you are already capable of the action. It is most likely, one of the defining factors that keep you stable. I have seen for myself when your magick goes haywire. Having extra mana to spare must be what keeps you from draining your soul dry."

_ I never thought of it that way._

"I can see why there is much concern. Strong emotion from me causes magickal reactions, and magickal reactions equates to the loss of my mana. Any other student could throw a temper tantrum and not accidentally kill themselves from using up their supply. I'm using mana on a constant basis… I get it now! I suppose that makes it especially worrisome for a teenager."

He groans. "Indeed. If everyone possessed the same method of casting as you do, the school surely would already be burned down to the ground. I can trust that you see my point now."

"I do."

"For one reason or another, your mana supply is huge. That plays in our favor. Another important detail to highlight is that you possess steady control over your emotions, and your magick."

"Is that a compliment, sir?" I say with a grin.

"Again, I have seen it for myself. You do not shatter a window every time you are excited, you do not spark a fire every time you are upset. Only in extreme situations are risks like these evident. On the other hand, you appear so in tune with yourself, that those extremes are quite rare. You are not quick to burst, you are not easy to offend. That is why you still stand here today. Something your mana would not be able to protect you from forever. It is your intelligence and maturity that allow you to wield that peculiar magick. Mana merely speeds up the process of mastery."

_Oh my, I think I'm going to blush._

He lifts a finger. "That, is the **critical** difference between your current magickal capabilities, and juvenile magick. There_ is_ a refinement to it. There is progress and skill. It is not mere randomness, it is not pure chance. It is decisive action. The danger remains that not everyone and anyone will be able to handle such a burden, for that would demand a balanced temperment. In theory, one could learn to do what you do. Through meditation and things of the sort. Would the verocity of their magick be as stagnant as yours? No. Such things can only be affirmed by the individual. But still, possible it is."

He looks, intrigued by the thought. There is a sinister glimmer in his eye, one I should be cautious of.

"In other words. My magick is tricky. But not impossible. It's one of those things that anyone can learn but not everyone can master. And my mana doesn't make my magick, my mind does. The mana I have_ is_ what's allowing me to learn so fast though. There's so much to spare that I greatly reduce the amount of practice and study time."

He nods. "That is exactly my view on the matter."

I huff.

"So what's so bad about it?!" I throw my hands up.

He looks alarmed. "Why does this distress you so?"

"I _have_ mastered free-casting. The risks are mine to take. I have never had an issue with my natural magick. It's trying to do this _catalyst method_ that causes destruction! That's the real problem. Not me. If I'm fine where I am, why are you two trying to change that? Why are you trying to change _me?_"

He sighs. "It is not that simple." He wipes his brow. "In an ideal world, no one would judge you. In fact, you would be respected and admired for being able to control such immense power, especially at your tender age. You would be deemed nothing less than a prodigy- but such a world does not exist. People fear what they do not understand, and when people fear something enough, it sparks hatred and violence. Our society is not so savage as they would go to the lengths of jailing or killing you, merely for being different. You would surely be ostracized, shunned, even resented. You are not just unique in terms of being wildseed, not just for being human, not for being female, not just for being young."

**His eyes go grave.**

"No one else on this earth can do what you do, Lumina."

...

"Not on record, not properly registered, not that we know of. That is why it is essential you learn the standard method. The Grand Council is not even aware of the fact that you can free-cast. To our society, it was the earliest form of magick. It is history. Something our ancestors did, not something we do now. If word got out that you can consciously free-cast, it would cause an uproar similar to if you were the first person to succeed in resurrection."

My mind remains blank.

"In life or death scenarios, these stigmas do not apply. I am not telling you to give up your magick, I am not telling you to cease being who you are. I am asking you to let us in. To make room for another method. You do not strictly need to lose one to obtain the other."

I bite my lip and look down. "I understand." I whisper.

"If that is truly the case, then it is about time we put theory into actual practice."

He extends a hand to me, I take it, not sure of what to expect. The next thing I know we're in the dungeons. I cast Awareness.

"You used a spell just now, what was it?"

"I'm sorry. It's a force of habit. I always cast Awareness at the start of every exam."

He relaxes. "A practical strategy." He comments.

_This dungeon is very low, I can sense that we're unbelievably deep into the ground. It is a large, expansive room, endless, tall and wide. Stretching in every direction. It seems familiar._ "Is this the final exam dungeon?"

"For your freshman class, yes."

_It feels so hollow without the little beasties skittering about._

I'm instructed to cast every spell I know, starting with black and ending with white.

I'm able to cast every single black spell, leaving me about half of my energy left.

He hurriedly writes notes down in a small logbook that appeared out of nowhere.

I move onto green, which I easily follow through with more than enough to spare.

After I finish green, I move onto blue. I do manage to duplicate maybe 3/4 of the material before I need a recharge.

Red uses up all of my power a quarter of the way in. It's just too much for me.

This surprises him, and he recommends I visit his red course at least once next week.

Finally my white magick.

He's insanely strict about it. I'm not allowed to cast Call, Ward, Spirit Echoes or anything else that could attract dormant spirits or slumbering creatures. Which is a bummer, because that's what I'm good at. I can easily cast all of the white spells two or three times over without running out of mana. This he hums and nods fervently at. Scribbling away maybe four pages of notes!

He mentions my quirks, that is, things I can do not taught in the spell books, and I perform them, but he seems unimpressed.

Finally, he recharges my mana again. Although I'm physically fine, mentally, I'm exhausted. _How long are we going to do this? When am I going to use a catalyst?_

"This little session will prove quite fruitful to my research."

"How does this help me learn to use a catalyst?"

I am ignored. "Petunia must be informed of this at once." He turns to me. "I wish you had told me sooner. Preferably before the school year ended."

I squint. "There were a lot of other, **magnanimous** things going on besides my _splendid_ education, Professor."

He clicks his tongue and turns away.


	18. Chapter 18

The following six days are like this. We'll catch up on our summer breaks, ask many questions, mine he will not answer and his are met mostly with shock at my responses. I'll perform all of my magicks, in different orders. He insists this is to gauge my strengths and weaknesses. When I run low on mana, he restocks my supply. He'll scribble down notes that I'll steal glances of because he won't share, then we do it all over again. I never get to touch a wand, or a staff, or any crystals or gloves or blades. Nothing. After our sessions I'll visit the school library, but there's not much for me in there. I don't have access to the mall because summer school students aren't allowed the privilege of shuttle vans.

On the seventh day, my first week back at Iris, I'm a bit on edge. I miss my home. I miss Papa and Russet. I want to go back and do other fun things like play charades and board games and perhaps go back to the Compass Crossways.

I look out my dorm window, at the bright world beyond. I sigh.

_I'm not happy._

_Why am I not happy?_

_The people who were once my family are gone, and they're more than glad to be rid of me._

_ I'm not supposed to feel bad for them. I'm supposed to be happy. Why aren't I jumping for joy now that they're gone from my life forever?_

_No more screaming and cussing, no more fighting, no more feeling isolated and hopeless._

_They'll be fine without me. In fact, it was worse when we still lived together._

_ Visiting relatives pitying you, the rumors, the whispers, the curious glances._

_The bullies at school snicker at your scrawny arm and legs, they make fun of your matted hair, of your pale lips and brittle nails from lack of nutrition, your Salvation Army clothes, your inability to go on any field trips that aren't free, or buy desserts from the cafeteria at lunch. The teachers whisper about the girl who talks to herself, who sees things that aren't there, who stares off into space._

_Your mother curses you, thinking you possessed by the devil because she's a religious hypocrite and you're the bastard child. _

_Your own siblings fear and hate you, why? Because mommy says so. Because Daddy left them after you were born._

_And why are you strange to them? Because you are the only one you know who can draw on the walls and make the figures dance, make light bulbs flicker on and off with a thought, who sees and hears these mysterious dead people. _

_They throw you out. _

_When you return you find that your mother has got herself a stable of boyfriends who act as her sugar daddies, your brother became a delinquent and went to juvi, and your sister got herself knocked up!_

_...But you have Papa. Papa was always there. Before you saw the memories, before you were tossed like trash, before Iris Academy!_

_They don't matter anymore. You did the right thing. Look at how horrible your life was only a year ago!_

_Then why?_

_Why do I feel so guilty? Why do I feel like it's my fault?_

_I just finished my freshman year of magick school and I almost wound up killed and nearly cost a man his magick!_

_Everywhere I go I make a mess._

_What if it happens again?_

_What if I ruin his life too? Look at how different I am! Nobody knows what or how I exist. Nothing I do makes sense. _

_You're in a school for wizards and they cannot explain what's wrong with you!_

_Is it really me? Maybe I'm... the problem?_

I shake my head and groan. "**Go away!**" I yell.

I feel the entire room rattle a bit, frightening myself. _Woah, woah. Did I just do that? _I stand._ Be calm, Lumie. Be calm. It's the past, it's the past, it's the PAST. _

"And even to this day, you can't let it go. Look at yourself, you're not even there anymore. Yet you always manage to make time for some self-pity." I rub my temples. _Ugh… You can be in the happiest of moods, then you think back to that and ruin it._

I've just had too much time to think. I wish I didn't overthink as much as I do. _What are you guilty for Lumie, huh? Right now, there are two things that need your attention. Learning how to use a damn wand, and somehow getting to second base with Professor Grabiner._

I freak out again.

_Yaagh! How am I supposed to do that? He's been so caught up in his research that we haven't made any efforts to progress our relationship._

The next thing I know, I'm knocking at his door. Without a word, it unlocks, he knows it's me.

"Good afternoon." I greet.

"Good afternoon, is something amiss? We have already concluded our field testing for the day."

I play with my fingers, feeling stressed from my hours of overthinking, and nervous from being in his presence. "I uh… I've been doing too much thinking lately."

He looks amused. "What have you been thinking of?"

"Memories… Thinking about it made me realize something."

"And that would be?"

"Well, I thought we could take this opportunity to open up. Like our chats over tea." _So far all I know about you is that you play the flute, enjoy fine wine and chamber music, you're a noble and I get insight on whatever complaining you have to do about the students on that particular day. Most of our chats are book discussions and lesson plans. Oh, that's another thing. You'll read just about anything. You REALLY like reading, even more than I do._

He does not look flattered by my notions. "I am quite busy scrutinizing my notes."

I take a step closer to him, not ready to be brushed off and left to my own thoughts again. "I'd appreciate it if you could give up an evening of study to converse with me. I've been here for a week now and all we've done is train. I want to remind you that training isn't the only thing that we should progress."

He awakens at my obvious hint. He gives it some thought, and with a groan he puts his papers away. "I recognize your point." He finally admits. "What do you have in mind for this evening then?"

"We've gotten the basics out of the way. Hobbies, tastes, and so on. But, we don't know much about each other's pasts."

I seemed to have struck a nerve, not my intention at all. "I have very little to share in accordance to that."

_Liar, you have a family, one that loves you from what I've been told. And I want to know about Violet. _"Still, we should know these sorts of things about each other."

He interrupts me. "I am already aware that you are wildseed. You had a mother and two siblings, the whereabouts of your father are unknown. During your adolescence you experienced a traumatizing event, met Mr. Atchung and became his personal student. For one reason or another, there was a long delay in your application process, which resulted in your late acceptance to Iris Academy at an older age than recommended, which lead to the current predicament that is our marriage."

"Okay. I'm glad you have the run-down, but what about the details? Isn't there anything you want to know about me?"

He sighs. Judging by the furrow of his brow, the way his nostrils flare and the strain in his jawline, I think I may have stumped him.

_Nice to know I'm interesting. You're just dying to pick at my brain aren't you?_ "How about I start?"

He half-opens his eyes, a dull, dim light to them.

"Well... Being a little older than most of the Freshman means I've got a little more life experience than they do. I had a job and was going to college before I enrolled here."

He looks a little more interested. "I think your grandfather may have mentioned that."

I nod. "That's right. I was pretty much crushed when I found out I wasn't going to be accepted into any magickal schools. So I signed up for a local college and I got hired at an animal shelter that I used to volunteer at. Then I got my letter from Iris right before my first semester. I don't regret leaving those behind at all." _I would've never met you…_

"You do not miss your old life? You have been thrust into a strange, new world you do not understand, and from my understanding you were at the cusps of transitioning into adulthood."

I shake my head. "There is nothing to miss."

He sits up now, shifting his body to face me, a hand on his knee, the other making motions as he speaks. "You are wildseed. You were raised with customs far different from ours. Your nursery rhymes, your history, your trends and slang and even your cuisine. Do you not feel alienated here?"

I laugh. "Of course I do. But that's not new to me at all. Wouldn't that be the case wherever I went after that? And you know what? I've always been different, even here I'm so different from the others. I've been able to do magick for as long as I could remember, but I've talked to my friends, and they couldn't do magick until they were thirteen."

"It is usually around the pre-pubescent age that dormant magick will spring forth. Thirteen is the national average, but some start as early as twelve or as late as fifteen."

"I know, the whole teenage-hormones thing. But there's something else I don't understand. In fact, there are many things I wish to ask you."

He softly smiles at this. "My wisdom is available to you."

I smile back. _This is working, we're talking!_ "There is a spell called Spirit Sight. We all know of it, we know what it does."

"Yes."

"What I don't get, is that I can't seem to turn my Spirit Sight 'off'."

He opens his mouth and lets out sound of recognition. "Ah. You possess the natural sight. This is uncommon, but not unheard of. You have heard of spiritual mediums?"

"Yes, I have. Does this mean I'm one too?"

"Most likely. There is no known way to remove the inate sight, but it can be hindered. Do you experience visions?"

For some reason, my heart leaps. I quickly put a hand to my chest.

He looks concerned.

"I… I don't know. Is being psychic possible?"

"It is a reality, yes. Psychics do exist. But not in the same sense as individuals dressed in spandex who run criminal syndicates, or exotic women dressed in turbans, scarves and adorned with heavy, golden jewelry."

_You mean like in X-men?_ I giggle.

"What do you find so amusing?" He says sharply.

"You know more about the mundane world than you let on."

He flushes at this, shutting his eyes and tightening his lips.

It makes me giggle more. "I can't be sure if I've had true visions, but I've had dreams that eerily foreshadow events that occur shortly after."

He leans forward. "There is no typical experience for psychics. Some see scenes as clear as day, others encounter vague dreams, a few describe witnessing odd shapes, colors and numbers. In serious cases, the medium relives a memory or undergoes an out-of-body anomaly."

"My dreams are never straightforward, they are… vivid, in a way. That's how exaggerated they are. Strange, oddly symbolic things happen while I'm asleep. And only while I'm asleep, no other time. There have been cases where what I thought was a nightmare happened the morning after, but not in a literal sense. The _interpretation_ of the dream came true."

"You may possess a minimal clairvoyance. If any dreams reoccur, you would be wise to take proper precaution, and perhaps notify me if necessary."

_Yeah… I had some freaky dreams not too long ago._

"What about yourself? Do you have any special powers?"

He huffs. "I am a magician, nothing more, nothing less."

_But you're brilliant!_ "I like street magicians too."

He actually scowls at me! His eyes radiating with a dangerous, red glow. "Whatever could be so attractive about con-men who perform parlor tricks for petty cash? It is not proper magick."

"So I'm guessing you don't like Romanis either."

He wrinkles his nose. "They are all harlequins."

I put my hands on my hips. "That's not really fair to them. It's not their fault they weren't born wizards. And we all know it's an _illusion_, but that doesn't change the fact that it takes_ real skill_. They work for the sake of entertainment."

"I hardly find such gaiety entertaining."

"That's because you don't like to have fun."

He grunts. "No, I do not, and I feel equal disdain for the mockery of magickal arts."

I'm subtly hinted to take my leave, and I do. Outside of his door I slump. _Well, I figured more out about myself today. And now I know Grabiner hates jesters and harlequins, probably the entire circus too. But he does read comic books._

It's Monday, meaning I have to find some way to entertain myself again. I can't find the faeries anywhere. I've even called for them, _where have they gone?_

Wherever I walk people scatter, they whisper and look away. With nothing better to do, I start cleaning. I tidy up my already immaculate dorm. Since Ginia isn't here, there's no mess to clean up. I pack up my clothes and head off to the laundry room. It's not really a room, more like another section to the bathroom. There are laundry baskets for us to put our clothes in, and within a burst of magick, they are washed, dried and wrinkle free. All we have to do is put them back where they belong. Most of the girls do their laundry at once, or assign their roommate to "wash" everyone's clothes. I do this myself, and I fold my own clothes. I teleport them back to my room when I'm feeling lazy. _I love it, do they even realize how many quarters this saves?!_

"Oi. I know ye." An unfamiliar, oddly-pitched, voice calls out to me from above.

I immediately tilt my head up, my eyes darting across the ceiling for the body of said voice.

"Wut's takin ye so long eh? It's just laundry. Ain't nuthin special aboot it."

_ Is that a? Scottish accent?_ "Hello, are you a browny?" I cup my hands over my mouth to make my voice clearer.

"So where's Russet gone? Last I heard e headed off wit ye. If yer here, why ain't Russet come back?"

"Russet and my grandfather are very close, they've become good friends. So he offered em a chance to spend the vacation with him." I answer.

"Hmph." Is all I get in return.

Then silence…

"Excuse me, are you still there?" I say to the ceiling.

_No answer. I guess e left._ I open my basket, remembering my current task and as I touch the lid, there is a comical "Boing!" sound and all of my clothes fly out and scatter in different directions. _Oh no!_ I hurry to collect them from the ground, but every time I get near them they make that funny "Sproing!" sound and hop away from me. _It's as if they're alive!_ I desperately try to keep up with my hopping clothes. They slither and jump out of my grasp. I'm chasing after my clothes as if I'm trying to catch a bunch of bunny rabbits, when I hear snickering overhead.

"You!" I angrily accuse the ceiling. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

I'm slapped by my towel on the behind. "Uwah!" I yelp.

The snickering intensifies.

_ Think you can get the best of me?_ I outstretch my arms and focus my black magick on the entire room. _Dispel Object!_ With a "whoosh!" of mana filling the space, the rowdy clothes go limp and lifeless. All that remains is a mess of scattered laundry littered about the bathroom floor.

I hear a small gasp. "Ahh. So it's true? Ye duin't need a wand."

"You _are_ a browny, aren't you? That's why you know so much about me."

"Tch. Ye haven't got the best of me. Shove off!" I hear a loud, hurried scurrying.

"Wait! Who are you?"

But e's long gone. I look at my poor clothes, now soiled again. With an exasperated groan, I pick up the mess and start my laundry over, making sure to check the baskets for any enchantments this time.

Tuesday, my last day off before I go back to training._ I'm going to ask him outright when I'm actually going to have a freaking utensil in my hand._ I'm in the library, alone again, skimming through the bookshelves for something I haven't read yet._ I could study, read more magickal theory. But I'm torn between reading those now and having nothing to read for the school year. It's going to be extra lonesome from now on._ I spot a book I haven't seen before. It's a dark blue book, no title, no cover image. I trace the spine to feel a nice velvety surface. _It looks old, dusty, too._

I pull it from the shelf. Just as I do that, a weird zapping sensation runs up my arm. "Ouch!" I drop the book.

The book hits the ground with a soft thud. But the moment it makes contact with the rug many other books come flying at me from different directions. The shelves rock and the books begin flapping through the air, opening and closing, imitating flight.

I duck from a flapping book overhead. Just as I'm thinking of calling for help, movement catches my eye. The book I dropped is at my feet, and golden, swirling letters begin to appear. It says "Read me."

Against my better judgement, I open it, the pages turn on their own to the middle of the book. In big, bold letters it instructs "KNOWLEDGE IS IN THE AIR. CAPTURE IT, AND ENLIGHTENMENT IS YOURS."

_Is this some type of a prank?_

I try to cast Dispel Object again, but it doesn't work. I cast Truesight and Awareness instead. _There are no illusions, but I do sense a browny._ "This is your doing, isn't it? Oh!" I have to quickly duck as another flapping book dives for my head.

"Yer not gettin away that easily, lass. Better watch yer head, all that knowledge might be too powerful for a pee brain like ye!"

"Why are you doing this? Have I done something to upset you?" I dive from a whole flock of books swooping in my direction.

"Aye. Figure it out!"

_As if._ I head for the door. But I can't open it! I cast Open, but it doesn't budge._ Should I teleport?_

"Don't even think about teleportin. I'd hate to be responsible fer yer death."

"My _what?!_"

"Just follow wut the book says and ye'll be fine."

I blink. Then a book "thwops" me on the back of my head.

"Dugh!" I grunt. _Fine! I'll play your game._

I spend my evening jumping and ducking for books. I catch a brown, history book first. It yaps and flaps as if I caught a bird. I put it in its proper place, and the spell wears off. It loses its animation and goes flat, falling to the side. _So that's your game, huh?_ I hastily collect three or four books at a time, as many as I can carry. Then I painstakingly place them on their correct shelves.

I make a mistake with a lilac romance novel and as if it were offended it slaps me across the face with its spine.

"Oof!"

It flies off.

Two and half agonizing hours later, I've shelved and re-shelved every, single book in the library. I'm panting, wiping my forehead while sitting on the floor, thoroughly exhausted.

_That._ *Pant.* _JERK._ *Pant.*

"So ye did it. Now ye are enlightened."

Anger gives me the energy to stand. "I didn't learn a thing!"

E scoffs. "Tch! Yer thick, ye know that? Can't ye see ye know where all the books belong now?"

I feel myself bubbling and boiling. "Gaahh!" I tug at my hair. I thrust open the door and speed down the hall to seek shelter in my room.

Paranoid, I scan every inch of my dorm._ No enchantments, no graffiti, no brownies._ "Ahhh." I flop back in relief. Staring at the mosaic above my bed, I think. _So you're a browny. But, I've met all of the brownies. Which one doesn't like me? Hmm._

_What were they all like again? Ecru is the baby, Tawny is the shy one, Maroon is super smart and Potsdam's favorite, uh… Cordovan I think was the "mother hen" type. They wouldn't treat me this way. _

_Uhhh. Burgundy. Russet mentioned e was grumpy and strict. Nah. E's is almost as old as Russet, and that's the one that eats and drinks all day, e has better things to do than mess with me. Besides, that's not what Burgundy sounds like._

_ Not Fallow, e's is the lazy one. Bole is the workaholic. No way e would soil my laundry. _

_Three of them are the "goombaya" types. Singing, chanting, nature lovers. Why would they bother with me? Those are… Sepia, Sienna and Umber, right!_

_ Wait… _I count with my fingers._ Two, four, six, eight… Russet… _*Gasp!*_ WENGE! That has to be em! Russet said e was the oddball, the angry, moody teenage one! Russet also said e doesn't trust anybody, not even Potsdam fully. And again Russet mentioned e's a prankster! Oooh, that's it! I'm so stupid for not figuring it out sooner._

My steam evaporates. _Huh. Why does e sound like that?_ I think back. _Wenge wasn't a part of Russet's original clan of six, e's native to Earth. Maybe that's why Wenge has that accent, e is from here. Not America, obviously, but e must've picked up the dialect from wherever e is specifically from. Scotland?_

I sit up. _You talked to me… You could've easily played those pranks and said nothing, leaving me confused and frightened. Wenge… Is this your way of opening up? You want to get to know me don't you?_

I smile, then let out a small laugh to myself. _You know what Wenge, you remind me of someone else I know. He's rough around the edges too, not good at letting out his true feelings._

This morning I'm here to meet that same person. I open the door to the conference room. "Good morning Professor."

"Good morning." He looks like he's about to speak further, but I cut him off.

"I'm sorry, but before we begin, am I going to touch a tool anytime soon? I feel like we've focused more on your individual research than my handicap."

He gruffs a response. "If you had the patience to let me finish speaking you would have discovered I have new data drawn from the notes I collected to share."

"That's why I apologized first. But that still doesn't answer my question."

He sighs. "Yes, you will be utilizing a wand today."

"Good. So what's new?"

"Your following skills are such: White, green, black, blue, red." He makes a "hmm" sound, as if he just noticed something.

"What is it?"

"I merely realized that your affinities are the exact opposite of my own."

"So… You're a red mage. Then you're good at blue, black, green and white magick is your worst skill?"

He huffs. "It may not be my strongest magick, but it still surpasses yours. _I_ possess decades of experience and study behind me, _you_ do not. Never underestimate the power of an opponent, even if they are not playing their strongest cards."

"I won't." _Decades huh?_ "How old are you?"

He looks insulted. "_Excuse me?_"

I project myself. "I want to know how old my husband is."

He eases, but not by much. "I am… Thirty-three."

_Pfft. Decades? If you started doing magick at thirteen like everyone else, then you only have two decades of experience. Don't make it sound like you're ancient._ "That means there is a fourteen-year difference between us."

"Yes, almost your entire existence."

I giggle.

He opens his eyes, confused. "At least I'm not married to someone twice my age. No one can say you're old enough to be my father. That's good enough for me."

He sniffs a chuckle. "I could be, if I made very poor life decisions."

"Ew. Don't gross me out. That is such a turn-off."

He inhales sharply at my crude reply. "You… How can you be so lighthearted on the matter?"

I toss back my hair. "What matter? I knew you weren't that old. Even if you were in your mid-forties it wouldn't faze me. Especially when you think about the life-expectancy of wizards in the long-run."

He sighs. "I _will_ certainly live longer than the average wizard."

_We're all going to live for several hundred years. That's if we play our cards right and stray away from excessive smoking, drinking and any unfortunate accidents. But why would he live longer than average? He's not a green mage._ "What is the general length? Could you give me a range?"

"The standard lifespan for a wizard-excluding green mages- ranges anywhere from 200-500 years. There will be a point in everyone's life, where they reach a state of absolute homeostasis. At that peak point, the aging process will delay immensely. For a green mage one could add an extra 150 years. Genetic compounds, stress, physical harm and abuse of narcotics does alter the appearance. Not everyone ages _gracefully, _you see."

_You seem to be doing fine._

"I hypothesize that you will cease the aging process somewhere around your early to mid-twenties. As your green magick is quite refined. Of course, even in your mid-twenties you will probably still be mistaken for a teenager, as your genes give you the appearance of someone much younger. Take note that because you are not a green mage, you will not be able to regrow limbs, regenerate aged tissue or cure cancers. But you will be immune to most diseases, venoms and poisons. I suspect at the maximum capacity you will be able to heal broken bones, clear the body of toxins and probably save vital organs too fargone for the ordinary wizard."

_That… Sounds… Awesome! So I can at least expect to live three-four hundred years, and I won't get Alzheimers!_

"That sounds great and all, but what about you? Why did you say you'd live longer than average?"

His mouth goes flat, his eyes heavy, a sorrow seems to emit from him. "My elven blood will make sure of that."

"Elven blood..."

"My mother is a full-blooded elf, and my father is a half-elf. I may not be a pure blood, so perhaps I should not expect myself to live the full thousand years, but I will probably come quite close."

_A thousand years… _

"You should know that elves do not commonly interbreed. Primarily because most parents do not wish to outlive their children. That is why my mother chose my father, although he is just as much human as he is elven, that sliver of blood was certain to produce long-lived children. Elves do not breed as often as humans. The longevity of the race is so profound that there is no immediate need to produce offspring to ensure the survival of the species. Most elven women bear a single child in their lifetime. The time-frame for fertility is too sparce. Normally one season out of the year, every decade or so. The pregnancy is long as well, a full twelve months of development. The birth rates are another factor to consider.- for every female there is a male to sustain the population. Whereas in human births, there is an excess of females. That is to ensure there is never a shortage of mates for the male persuasion to impregnate. It is easier for a species to sustain itself when it only takes a single male to breed with multiple females, producing many offspring and ensuring the continuation of his line."

_Goodness, it's so precise. _"Wait. Do that means elves go into heat?"

My question seems to baffle him, and not in a good way, as he makes a rather large frown with his exposed teeth. Teeth that he only bares for special occasions. For especially stupid people.

"The elven race does not undergo periods of 'heat' like rampad animals. We possess a veritable awareness, a synchronization with our bodies. For every elven individual, there is a particular season of the year that they are most fertile, if that elf wishes to reproduce, they simply will their bodies to begin the necessary preparations. This does result in a heightened sense of lust, but that is to ensure a successful mating."

"Oh-ohh. So they can _choose_ when they want to breed?"

"Precisely. It just so happens that the process is so arduous on the body, that it takes a decade or so to be able to reach peak fertility once again. Elves are not the prudish, pussilamious species that we are made out to be. We enjoy as typical of a sex life as anyone else. It is only the issue of child-bearing that weighs the greatest difference. We are not to be mistaken for savage, uncivilized wood children running naked and amok in the forest either."

_From what I'm getting, they feel want and desire as much as humans do, but elves can control their bodies to merely have sex for pleasure or have sex for reproducing. When they want to reproduce, they get super horny, similar to heat. It's just not something that should be confused with the only time they'll ever have sex. But why would he be so passionate about an innocent question?_

"I have to assume even though there is general racial equality in the magickal world, there still remains stereotypes and prejudices. So for elves it's unfairly profiled that they are either snobby pansies who would never engage in an act as raw and dirty as sex except for the sake of sustaining the species. Or _because_ of their ability to have sex on a regular basis and consciously control their fertility- others would brand them raging, hormonal sex addicts."

"Amongst _the great unwashed,_ yes."

_A double-stereotype._ "I owe you my apology for being insensitive."

"Your apology is accepted. Just be sure to watch your tongue from now on."

"You said your mother… Chose your father?"

"They had an arranged marriage. My mother and father are childhood friends. When she became of age, she already had herself a lover. But being that neither of them could create a child together, she seeked my father, who happily abliged, equally desiring an heir of his own. He could see no other woman worthy of carrying his seed. My mother had already reached her peak fertility, and she knew with little time to spare, that she must marry and conceive before the spring was up, otherwise she would have to wait another decade."

"If, I may ask… Why couldn't she and her lover make a child?"

He smiles. A small, cocky smile, with a glint in his eye. "Two females cannot successfully get each other pregnant."

"_Oh-ho._"

"My mother is bisexual, she is the queen-consort to the Matriach of the eleven kingdom. Our Royal Highness is a lesbian, and she has no desire to experience motherhood. My mother on the other hand, very much wanted to raise a child. This was their compromise. Who better to copulate with than a friend she had known all her life, without any strings attached or scandal. She knew he would not mistreat her or develop amorous feelings that would complicate her engagement to the Matriach Queen of the Elves. They both desired children, but not necessarily companionship. He had the blood she needed, and she had the status and power he admired, a union that would escalate his noble standing and grace his family name for future generations. They were mutually fond of one another, and there was a definite attraction. After I was born, she divorced my father and married her lover. They would both split the parenting duties. She so that she would still have time to rule the elves alongside her queen, and he so that he wouldn't be bothered with the mundane task of bringing up children. He was free to socialize, travel and entertain concubines as he pleased." He says that last sentence with distaste.

_I… I never would've guessed. He's a damn prince! I've married wayyyyyyy out of my league._

"Wipe any absurd fantasies out of your mind. I am no elven prince. My mother is the queen's _consort_, nobility, not royalty. I am not the heir to the throne. I am the heir to the Grabiner fortune and estate." He says with a groan.

"If she's the Queen's wife why aren't you considered royalty?"

"My mother was _married_ at the time of my conception. She was a Grabiner, her husband was a Grabiner, therefore her son is a Grabiner. She strategically plotted this out so that the issues of heirs and inheritance would not muddle royal affairs. It is why she had to wed in the first place, rather than engage in the act whilst married to her queen. If I was born under her royal name then I would be considered an heir, yes. And my father a consort."

"That's brilliant."

He seems flattered by this. "My mother is brilliant."

_So you prefer your mother to your father?_

"This discussion has branched far off of the intended topic." He notices with a frown.

"But I enjoyed it. I've learned so much. Thank you." I say with real happiness.

"You are welcome." He says softly.

As we exit the room, I can feel my face getting hot. _Professor Grabiner and I just talked about sex. Not in a dirty, come-hither, teasing sort of way. But a logical, factual, scientific discussion. And it wasn't about our predicament, but it was still a heavy topic. He's getting comfortable enough to engage in adult conversation with me._ I steal at glance at him, he looks lost in thought. I smile to myself that there isn't an inch of regret on his face. We finally make it down to the dungeons and begin the session.

I pull out my wiggle wand.

"What… Is _that?_" He asks with disapproval.

I blush furiously. "It's my wand."

He doesn't respond, only stares with dead eyes.

"Look, I know it's ridiculous. But it's either this or a blue one with a golden, glittery star on top. And believe it or not I'm better with this one."

"Why did you not purchase a standard, wooden wand?"

"Because this one is stronger!"

"*SIGH.*" He exhales, shaking his head.

I'm casting and casting, or trying to cast, for the rest of the day. The only good news is that I don't damage myself or the tool.

With a successful day behind me, I retire to my dorm. _Maybe I'll just hop straight into bed._ Just as I turn the knob and push the door in, I feel a surge of magick, then the next thing I know, I'm drenched in a splash of chilling, icy water.

I shriek. "Kyaaah!"

Spluttering, I dart my head up, expecting to see a bucket and rope-pulley contraption, thinking I've fallen for the oldest trick in the book. But there is nothing there. I touch a shivering hand to the door. _It must have been a trigger trap._

I toss back my sopping hair. "WENGE!" I echo throughout the halls in rage.

I hear a small gasp, then the scuttling of little feet.

"GET BACK HERE AND FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!" Foolishly, I run after em.

Doors crack open, fearful and condescending eyes fall upon me. But I do not care, they have no idea what I'm talking about anyway. All they see is a dripping wet, mad woman running down the halls chasing after something that is not there. I don't manage to find em, I'm too tired to bother tracking the little devil.

_Ugh! I'll just go take a hot shower, dry off, then plop into bed and plot my REVENGE._


	19. Chapter 19

I'm up early, getting ready to meet the professor. My first thought of the new day is about yesterday. How much he opened up to me, more than he ever has before. _Maybe it wasn't his intention to, but he did. Now I need to do the same. Ask more questions, spark more conversations if I'm going to get familiar with him._

I look at the now-damp towel I placed over my pillow last night. _Grrr, stupid Wenge! You're gonna get it if this becomes a regular thing with you._ Resolution in my mind, I march out of the dorm. I quickly scan for any enchantments or lingering remnants of energy. _Good. I can walk out now._ Walking down the hall, eyes scanning the ceiling and scaffolding for movement, ears perked up for any sudden sounds, I make it to the conference room. _If I can just survive this until eleven, then I can focus on tracking down Wenge._

I slowly open the door.

"Good morning." He greets politely.

"Good morn-AAAGH!" I stumble over myself and fall flat on my stomach. I hit the wooden floor with a loud "Slam!"

He rushes to me. "Are you hurt?" But I can hear him trying to hold back the laughter in his voice.

"I'm fine. I just tripped over something." I try to get back on my feet, but then a looseness in my boots registers. I look down. "Huh?!" My long laces are untied and tangled together.

He looks at what I'm looking at. "If you are not going to take care to ensure your laces are properly tied, then you are completely deserving of this folly." He scolds.

"But I did tie them this morning!" I groan, then prop myself up on one knee and begin untangling the mess.

After several minutes of frustrating fumbling, he lets out an agitated groan and bends down to me. I expect him to pull out his wand and solve the issue in a second, but he instead swats my hands aside and gets to work untying the laces himself.

I'm red with embarrassment. His long, slim fingers effortlessly dip and weave through the knots. He gently tugs at the looser string, effectively disentangling the laces. I reach my hands down to properly tie them, but they are swatted again, and he swiftly ties my laces into firm, neat little bows.

"I… Um. Thank you." Is all can say, realizing how childish I must look.

"I have a right mind to administer detention for such a clear lack of propriety, but I suppose the good knocking you gave yourself is a lesson learned well enough."

Burning, flushed, I nod my head vigorously. _**Wenge, you're in for it now.** _

As there is nothing to discuss, we, to my shock, head down to the dungeons and begin the blasted training.

"Before we begin, I must ask you use your natural magick again."

I would be flattered by him wanting to see my magick so much if it didn't involve heavy note-taking and instead led to some actual _compliments. _I ready myself but he stops me. Confused, I watch him whip out his wand.

_Are we going to duel?_ I stare straight into his eyes. _No, he wouldn't do that. That doesn't benefit him._

"Cast anything you like, anything at all- even if it is a spell not taught by the academy. I will attempt to duplicate the process."

"More experiments?" I frown at him.

He shakes his head. "Trust me, and you will learn."

The more devious side of my brain takes over. I smirk slightly, and hold back a dark chuckle. _Let's sway this scenario towards a more, romantic direction._

I make sure to watch my breath and heartbeat, and I think calming, warm thoughts. I physically draw out a heart with my fingers, and imagine it throbbing and blushing, the familiar "Tha-thump. Tha-thump." My smile widens when Professor Grabiner gapes at my giant heart-throb illusion. I can only make illusions about as big as I am, and as long as I can shape it, draw it or write it out, I can do it. That's as good as I've been able to get with blue magick, even with the academy version's mastery behind my belt.

He disappears behind my heart as it swells to match my size, growing redder and beating faster. It's ridiculous, it's totally not me, but it's so worth hearing the mumbles and grumbles I've caused.

"Are you playing me for a fool?"

_Ooh, I know that tone._ "This is _my_ magick, and I will do as I please." I simply retort.

"Do not expect me to replicate that atrocity."

"You can't make an illusion of a heart?" I feign surprise.

He bellows. "You know very well that I can! But I refuse to demean myself for your girlish amusement!"

I keep playing dumb. "Is it because I drew it out with my fingers? Isn't there an incantation for simple illusions? I know there is. You teach blue magick."

"Which is exactly why you know I am overqualified! I have no need to stoop down to your childish antics."

I peek at him from behind my still-beating heart. _The look on his face is absolutely adorable! Ha!_ "I know. But I don't think you can duplicate an exact replica of my illusion. Maybe in size, shape and color. But you can even hear my heart beating! And I can make it glow." On cue, the heart glows a burning red, the thumping intensifies.

"I am not falling for that." He quickly retorts.

"Falling for what?"

"Should I administer detention right here and now?"

"No you can't! You said 'cast anything you like- anything at all'!"

He groans and slaps his forehead. "And I regret giving you that courtesy."

I stomp my foot childishly and pout. "Well, can you do it or not? I can show you-"

"Oh, shut up will you?" He snaps at me.

I will my heart to dissipate as he swishes his wand in a series of flicks followed by some hurried muttering. In a swirling, swelling blob, forms a perfectly even, plump pink heart. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. _He actually did it!_ I put on a straight face and circle the heart, scrutinizing it. It glows a brighter shade and I nod in approval.

As quickly as he conjured it, he tosses it away. "Has your craving for utter nonsense been satiated?"

"Nope! I'm holding you to your word."

He sighs heavily and exaggeratedly.

An equally genius, yet cliché idea pops in my head. I extend my right arm forward, holding it there, and clench my fist as if it were grasping onto something. Then with my left arm I slowly raise over my back, pretend to pick something up and position it above and adjacent to the other arm, maybe an inch apart. I think positive thoughts,_ cool, clear, confident, _and I imitate the motion for shooting an imaginary arrow from an imaginary bow. I've aimed for the heart, there is a zipping sound through the air, and just like that, a feathered arrow appears, piercing through the silly illusion.

Grabiner looks intrigued, and possibly, amazed. "Astounding." He says under his breath. He walks around the image. "Your powers can be manipulated through imagination as well as emotion."

I shrug. "It's a mixture of both, really. I have to feel something to summon my mana, and then I have to picture what I want to do in my head for it to work. Otherwise the mana doesn't go anywhere."

"So it is more a manner of will, rather than instinct."

"Yeah. That's why when crazy stuff happens, I can't control it. Random energy rushes out because I didn't associate the magick with a conscious thought."

He keeps examining the thing. "But I have observed that your magick responds to the subconscious also. That instance in the dungeon, for example, when you fled from me."

"Y-yes. I didn't necessarily want to teleport. It's just that… I was so stressed, and in that moment, I didn't want you to touch me or talk to me-"

His face goes cold.

"N-no! Not like that. I just. I just wanted to be _alone._"

"Yes, I understand. You felt hurt, and thus wanted time for yourself, time to grieve. Your desire to distance yourself was so immense that your magick responded to it. And it took you to the loneliest place your mind had stored in its memory. A place where you could enjoy complete solitude without fear of discovery."

_ A tiny, bricked up room with no walls or windows, underground, in the dark…_

"What did you exactly have to feel to conjure an arrow?"

"I just thought positive. I made sure I was confident. I had to be, since I've never really shot an arrow before, I only know what it looks like."

"I see. You are left-handed?"

"Hm?"

"You reached for your quiver with your left arm. Arrows must be shot with the dominant hand."

I nod, surprised that he noticed.

"That method of course, only works with an illusion. Since you have admitted that you are inexperienced with archery."

"Absolutely." I make sure to mention. "It's only an illusion, that's why I hit my target. I can't conjure up any _real_ arrows. Even if I could, I would suck!"

He chuckles softly. "Perhaps I could assist with mending your skills."

"You know how to?" I blurt.

"I took archery lessons as a young boy."

"Did you go to summer camp?"

"I had many tutors. Including those in self-defense."

"What else can you do?" I ask eagerly.

This flatters him, and I have a feeling the best way to get him to talk is to stroke his ego. "I began my studies quite young, beginning in my toddler years. Everything from math, history, literature, the sciences, to music, dancing, archery, fencing…"

A wide smile spreads across my face.

He obviously sees it. "This was all prior to my formal schooling. I engaged in a private, home-education. When I became of age, I attended an academy, like everyone else. Every summer I would resume my studies, but no longer at home. I attended a country club of sorts. A place for the wealthy and powerful to strut about in their finery and gallivant their children around to perform ridiculous tasks, all to prove who had the best breeding." His cocky smile, morphs into a frown. "But that is a topic for another time. Now, back to our experiment." He motions to the rubbery, floating heart.

"Oh, uh… Warmth. Happiness. Erm. Attachment."

"Attachment? To what exactly?"

I panic a little. "Er, a bond. I just thought of a strong bond that I have with someone. You know, so I could make the stupid, girly heart look convincing. The more emotionally impacting the thought or the memory is, the better results you get."

"Memories now?" He asks.

"Ah. Yes." I fidget with my fingers. "Sometimes situations are too extreme to convince yourself to switch moods. You know, when you can't bring yourself to fake it? For example, being overcome with anger or sadness or paralyzed by fright. So conjuring up a memory works just as well in that situation. It tends to work _better_ than coming up with a fabricated thought. It really helps when the mind goes blank and you can't think of anything."

"Is there a difference within your magickal output?"

"Yeah, there is. If the memory is really important to you, it could result in something so much greater than anything you could make up."

"It sounds as if your magick is especially dangerous."

_I've heard that for the millionth time already._

"Alright, equip your wand. Now you must attempt to imitate me. As you have informed me that you possess all of the academy material, I will not be lenient." He casts a cool, light breeze, it flitters through my hair in a refreshing way.

I let out a small sigh of contentment. I attempt to do the same, but after three tries, he insists on doing something else.

He then sends a rush of warmth in my direction. I shut my eyes and take it in. I utter the incantation, I flick the wand to shape out the runes, and… Nothing.

He quickly catches sight of my disappointment and begins the next task. To my confusion, he utters words I am unfamiliar with, and swishes his wand in an almost, "musical composer" fashion. I stand, awaiting the results. He stares at me with hard concentration and the subtlest hint of eagerness. _This is taking a while._ _What is it supposed to do?_

Then I feel a hand, firm but gentle, rest upon my cheek. I jolt in surprise. It must be invisible, I can't see it, but I feel it! It cups my cheek for a moment, then runs its fingers along my jaw to stroke my chin and vanishes.

I'm left with an obvious blush.

My reaction seems to have left him pleasantly proud of himself. He awaits my response. Nervous, I shakily raise my wand. A couple of seconds of thought, and I look away, annoyed. "I can't do that." I pout.

"I know you cannot. That is not class material. But attempt anyway."

"What are the incantations, are they in English or Latin or-?"

"It does not matter. I will not tell you. Try figuring it out on your own."

_What is he playing at?_ I try coming up with a spell in English, but I cannot fathom what the name of a spell would be for "Let me touch your face, but not with my real hand." or the associated chanting for said spell. "Mmm, your cheek is so soft and plump, I can feel how warm it is. Let me stroke your smooth skin, oh how cute it is that you blush so easily." _Nah. I'm not saying that._ _What about the Latin variant? Um. Well, I don't know how to speak fluent Latin! I know the spells in Latin, but that's because they're in the books. Latin incantations are mostly for the upper tier spells, even though there is a version for both languages even including the baby spells like Breeze. But the older the language you chant in, the more powerful the spell becomes. That is because olde tongues have a stronger connection to older magicks, and olde magick supercedes modern magick. Gah! Now I'm trailing off. I can't do this._

I know I shouldn't try, but to save face, I try to do it mentally. _Aaaand. Nope._

"That answers my question."

"What question, did I miss it?"

"No. To myself. Now I know you cannot learn in the same fashion as you do with free-casting. You will not pick up the material as quickly. You require a structured environment, like any other wizard. You need time and practice."

"But that's terrible! Doesn't that mean I'd have to learn the spells all over again? I know them in my head, but I can't physically cast them. This could mean I'll be a whole year behind. Will I get pulled back?" I worry.

"No. We were aware that you possessed difficulty in wielding a catalyst and we did not correct it. That is our fault as your instructors, not your own. The credits you have earned from your previous school year will not be withdrawn, as they were earned legitimately. But yes, it doesn't mean, that if you do not show progress, you will be starting your sophomore year without any magick."

A memory resurfaces. "Oh!"

"What is it?" He asks, very interested.

"Ah. But... That can't be. It doesn't make any sense."

"Tell me what it is." He says in a rough tone.

"I used Sir William's wand and it worked."

"Who is Sir William?"

"Sorry, I'm so used to calling him that. William Danson, sir."

"Mr. Danson? Yes. That imbecilic initiation…" He remembers.

I smile. "You've had enough love letters I presume?"

He groans and rolls his eyes. "Enough for a lifetime. Petunia truly is a sadist at times. She does not bother to inform the freshman that they have every right to refuse such practices."

"You can cop out of Initiation?"

"You possess every right to refuse."

"If only I knew… I thought I'd at least get detention if I didn't participate, or that it would damper my studies somehow."

"I did hear that you portrayed resistance." He says with a smirk.

"Yes, but I didn't want to miss out on my first ritual in magickal school."

He scoffs. "It is more of a game than an official ritual, there are no magickal nuances to the event. It has become campus tradition, however."

"Okay."

"But tell me about his wand. You said that you correctly projected a spell? Why did you not mention a detail as crucial as that to me?" He says, looking annoyed.

"Because it slipped my mind!"

He shakes his head and makes a face of disbelief.

"No, I'm not that dim! It slipped my mind because it was easy to forget. And it was easy to forget because it's not what you think. If I used a catalyst correctly, of course I would bring it up. But the spell didn't execute exactly as it should. That's why it didn't register to me as something important."

"Then why would it cross your mind again now?"

"Sir William was practicing a control exercise with red magick. He was suspending a little ball in the air, up and down. He even made it spin." Professor Grabiner nods in approval, _I guess Sir William must be a good student._ "It looked like fun, and he explained to me how it works. So I asked him if I could try."

"He was most likely humoring you, I bet. It is not an exercise for freshman."

"Well I did it."

"What?!"

"I did it. It was easy."

He looks at me with wide eyes.

"The ball floated up and down maybe four or five times, but then I felt a small trembling in my hands. I felt it coming from the wand. I knew the feeling was familiar, the wand was rejecting me, like with my own wands. I lost control of the spell and the ball was flung across the courtyard. I didn't break his wand, thank goodness, because I stopped myself."

"But why on Earth would it succeed partially, if you cannot even perform a simple spell at the current time?"

"Beats me. Now that you mention it, it _is_ strange. But it ended the same way. If I hadn't stopped myself in time, I would've owed him some money."

"Yes. Though I am sure he would not be cross with you. He is quite a forgiving individual."

_Not when it comes to Sir Damien._ "That reminds me of another thing."

"Yes?"

_Maybe I shouldn't, I don't need to know. But I think I should… Yeah, what harm can it do?_ "Um. Do you remember Sir Damien?"

"You are referring to Damien Ramsey." Grabiner's voice becomes very heavy, and there is a low, dangerous growl to it.

"I heard the news of his expulsion."

"Then what is there to discuss? I do not engage in meaningless gossip."

"No, it's just that… I knew him."

This does not ease him like I thought it would, if anything, he looks angrier. "In. What. _Way?_" He nearly snarls.

"I wasn't his girlfriend if that's what you're asking. No way in hell would I date a guy like him!"

"That is… Not the common reaction." He whispers, astonished.

"I'm the farthest thing from common aren't I?" I shake my head. "He was my Senior during Initiation."

"The one who ordered you to write the love letter, I remember."

"That's him. Anyway, I just wanted to know why he was expelled. The stories have been exaggerated."

"Mr. Ramsey physically assaulted a freshman boy from Falcon Hall. His name is confidential, upon request, and he has since transferred to another academy."

I'm suddenly very aware of my heartbeat, and I feel an uncomfortable cold spreading across my body. _I think I'm onto something._ "Sir… Was he… Wildseed?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But how could you know that?"

I hug myself,_ I'm so scared now. _

"What is it? What is happening to you?" Grabiner worries.

"Sir. The attack. Was it..? Was it of a sexual nature?"


	20. Chapter 20

He lets out a sharp gasp, then straightens himself. "If you know something, come forward." He takes my shoulders now.

"It's just that… I've heard the rumors about him, about Damien. That he's known to be a womanizer and he can become rather violent. I know that he didn't have real friends, and that he liked to keep to himself. He and I were… Not on good terms."

"Did he do something to you?" Garbiner urges.

"He… He and I didn't get along. I thought he was a bit… Slimy. Not because of the way he looks, but because… It always felt like he was _toying _with me. The way he talked to me, it was coy and sly. I couldn't trust him. He'd switch from being pleasant and friendly to hateful and furious out of nowhere. He would throw tantrums for the silliest of reasons and make spectacles in public. Then he kept showing up after some time had passed, acting as if he never hurt me at all."

"He hurt you?!" Grabiner shouts.

"Not physically. He kept calling me a 'witch'. That's how he reacted whenever I did something he didn't like. He almost acted like… Like I was his _property._ And my slightest rejection of him would set him off. "

"He never struck you did he?"

"No. But then he would apologize and try to offer me gifts afterward. Honestly, I tried to be his friend. I tried to understand him, but he kept exploding!" _Why am I even saying this?_

Grabiner doesn't look like he takes my confession lightly. "What else did he do?"

I look up at him, gratefully. _His eyes are stern, he's collecting information, but for what purpose I can only imagine. It seems personal. _"Anyway. The last time I saw him, he asked me out."

The look in Grabiner's face baffles me so immensely that I cannot even describe it.

"He always had been flirtatious. But I never thought he had any feelings for me! I… I said no."

A smile flashes on his face for a split second.

"Then he called me a 'witch' again! And we had this huge argument, and I threw the little stone flower he gave me to the ground. When he picked it up, he suddenly changed. He was still angry, but he was shocked. As if he realized something important. Then he said something really odd."

"What did he say?"

"He said… 'You were no innocent. You had nothing to give.' He never bothered me again after that."

_What is that expression? Disgust?_

"Why did you not request help?"

"I was never in any danger, and I know how to handle a bully." I feel a little calmer now. "I brought him up because… Well. He's dangerous isn't he? And I heard he got away."

The professor grunts and looks away. "Yes, he eluded Petunia's grasp. Do you fear for your safety?"

"I don't know if I should? I doubt I'm important to him. We weren't friends, we weren't together, and I only saw the guy every couple of weeks. I've even seen him flirting with other girls, so his asking me out might not have been serious. It's just… From what I've heard… He has this really suspicious track record. He tends to only go for the wildseeds. And, freshman wildseeds at that."

The professor's eyes pop. "You are correct. There is a pattern. Excluding his stable of favorites, all of Mr. Ramsey's partners of choice have been wildseed freshman girls. This is most unsettling."

"Do you think..? He could be a predator?"

He flexes his fingers and snaps his wrists. "It is a possibility. Mr. Ramsey has never been known to be faithful. He made sure to have himself a replacement nearby in case his current relationship faltered. And yes, I am aware of the romantic exploits of most students. The school is not very large, so word travels fast, and the walls are thin. Perhaps in an act of desperation, or lack of suitable females, your rejection of him caused for a substitute. You are correct, by the way. The boy was sexually harassed."

_Eugh! That makes my stomach turn._

He begins to pace. "Petunia will hear word of this. If he is a predator of sorts, then he will most likely be searching out another target. We will have to warn nearby academies to shelter their wildseed girls especially. But before I do, I must ask you a few questions."

"Anything." I say honestly.

"When Mr. Ramsey would speak with you, was it mostly in demanding or condescending tones?"

"No. More playful really. He was cocky, and I could tell he thought I was a lot more naïve than I actually am. He liked that. He was eager to impress me."

"And did he experience radical changes in mood? From highs to lows?"

"Every time!"

"Did you spend time with him? Studying, clubs, maybe you shared lunch together?"

"No. I only saw him when I ran into him, he tried to ask me out to the Glen, but I was busy."

"What would set him off?"

"Whenever I didn't want to do what he wanted. When I didn't want to go to the Glen with him, he erupted in the hallway, we did try to reschedule. I thought it wouldn't do any harm if we went out to eat. I think he saw me at the booth for the Thanksgiving fundraiser, and he left a note in my room, but we both know I came back late and never saw it. The following morning he was banging on my door and said 'he saw me there!' He thought I stood him up... There was another time when Lady Angela-"

"Ms. Kirsch?"

"Yes. Her. She's his ex-girlfriend, and she confronted us when he came by to talk to me. He kept making it look like we were a couple, even though I kept insisting we weren't. Then he opened up to me about his past relationships, and I couldn't imagine why he would share these things with a stranger like me. When he asked me to write the love letter, it was supposed to be for him-"

"I was not aware of that."

"You weren't? But didn't he admit it was his idea?"

"He informed me that the letter ended up in my possession because of him, but not that it was meant to be his."

I recap on the other times he blew top.

"Now tell me about these gifts."

"He would say he's sorry, offer up his friendship again. Try to invite me somewhere or to play a game. The only literal gift he gave me was a flower stone he created himself. Each time he would let me in on a tidbit of personal information, and I never had to say a word. He would just start talking and never stop."

"You are aware that was a courting gift, were you not?"

"No! I did NOT know that! If I did, I would never have taken it! I didn't even want it in the first place. But I just felt sorry for him!" _Why am I yelling? Why am I? So upset?_

"I am sorry. I did not mean to…"

"No. No. I'm the one who should be sorry. I… It's just. He was my senior. I thought we could be friends. And... I didn't want to be like the others. I don't believe rumors. I wanted to give him a real chance, I didn't want to judge him because of his reputation or appearance. I know what that's like…" I clear my throat. "I knew he had girlfriend issues, and I found out that he was moody. But that didn't mean he was evil. He ticked me off, but he tried to make it up to me. He even bought me a pie from the Apple Festival. Him and I had fun at the Initiation barbecue. When it wasn't weird, we could even manage a decent conversation. And when he would open up, it was always so sad, but almost earnest. Yet… Even though he hadn't done anything too bad… I still didn't trust him. And I felt guilty for feeling that way. I thought I was as bad as the others..."

"Why would you feel that way? You have no need to pity him."

"I know! Because it turns out the rumors were right after all. He was horrible after all! And I wasted my time feeling guilty. I was nice to him and he tricked me! That's why I kept rejecting him, because I knew it all along! I'm _never wrong_ about these things! And that's what makes me so mad! I wasted my time thinking there could be good in him!"

Professor Grabiner is silent.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He… I don't like him. I never felt safe around him. I tried to fight it, but that doesn't matter now does it? I have these senses… And I've had nightmares. You mentioned that I could be clairvoyant… I believe you."

"Nightmares? Explain."

"That was a month ago. And nothing has happened. But I've told you my dreams have come true before."_ Why am I fretting over this now? Why to him and not to Papa when I had the stupid nightmare? _"This is what kept me from telling you sooner." I hold up my silver pendant.

He cradles it between his fingers. "It's enchanted." He says in awe.

"Yes. I made it myself. Papa gave me silver and moonstone from the Otherworld to make it. It's supposed to protect me. The necklace will warn me if I'm mortal danger."

"And you did this on your own?"

"All on my own. And it works. So because the pendant never glowed, I never felt like I was ever in any real danger." I look to the distance. _So why do I feel so bad now?_

"That is why you never take it off."

_Oh, he noticed that too?_ I look at him, a hand to my forehead. "I think I'm getting worked up for no good reason. I just… Just now. I felt like it was really important that I tell you that."

"For what it is worth. It pleases me that you trust me for such things." He gives me a tiny, crooked smile. But it's a smile, nonetheless. And it's for me. That makes me happy. He puts his hands behind his back. "Yes, I do believe we are done here."

He takes us out of the dungeons, and I squint, too accustomed to being in the dark. He opens the door for me and we bid each other pleasant nights. Just as I turn my back to him.

"Professor!" I shout.

"Do you need me?!" He whips around quickly.

"I think I might have something that could help you find him." I remember, and my pulse quickens.

With a nod, he lets me lead him to my dorm. One quick teleport and I thrust open the door and rummage through my things. _Where is it? Where is the blasted thing? I can't believe how stupid I am! I should've gave this to him the moment I heard he was expelled. Lumie, you clumsy, forgetful FOOL!_

I'm making a mess of things, a great clattering and knocking of noise as I open and close drawers, toss loose bits of clothing and crafting materials behind me. I topple a couple of books. I look back at Grabiner, feeling the need to apologize and assure him to be patient. But he is not looking at me, he's looking at my bed. He's looking at what is hanging over my bed, on the ceiling.

"Professor?"

Professor Grabiner stands tall, his arms limp and hands to his sides. His neck is craned up and his face is a perfect profile. His mouth is slightly agape, and his eyes are intensely focused, unblinking. I can see there is a glimmer to them, what looks like _admiration. _

"Did you make that?" He whispers more to himself than to me.

My eyes dart to the colorful wheel, then to him. "My mosaic? Yes. I made it a couple of days ago. It took me all night, I don't use magick when I make my art, except to keep it secure. I didn't have anything to keep it attached to the ceiling, so I had to mold it in. Am I in trouble?" _I hope I don't get detention for changing the structure of the ceiling. It's only a small area and it can easily be undone._

He merely shakes his head, still focused on the thing. He whispers again, unmoving. "You are an artist?"

I blush. "I don't know, maybe a little. I like to make things. Whatever I can get my hands on, I work with it. I, uh, I used to have this illusion over my bed that I would change once in a while. My roommates really liked them, but I got tired of illusions. I wanted something real."

He nods, slowly, like he understands.

"Um. Anyway, I'm going to keep looking." I turn away quickly to hide my enormous smile and continue my search. I hear a clicking of steps, his boots against the wooden floor. Then to my surprise, I hear the creaking of my bed frame. I turn to see what he's doing.

My professor is standing atop the bottom bed frame, to give himself the necessary lift in order to extend his long arm to touch the mosaic. He delicately, grazes his fingertips over the stained glass, then the flattened marbles and smooth river stones.

My hand is still reaching into the drawer, and I feel it. _Here it is!_

I pretend to not have seen him as he creeps down from my bed, still with a far-off look on his face.

"I found it!" I announce.

He walks over to me and bends down to my level. I hold out a wooden handle, he looks at it curiously. With a flick of my finger, the blade reveals itself. It glimmers from the setting sun's light through the window. "This was his Initiation gift to me. He said he's had it for years, as a lucky charm. Then he gave it to me so I would feel like it's special. Since they were supposed to make the gifts and he didn't, he offered me something sentimental. I don't know if it's the truth. But either way, this was his once upon a time, and I've never used it. Maybe you could use this to track him?" I sheathe the pocket knife and place it in Grabiner's palm.

He closes it, slowly. "Thank you." He says hoarsely.

"I only wish I had remembered sooner. I'm sorry sir, I hope you find him."

He nods, and without a word he heads for the door. He reaches for the knob.

"Sir?"

Grabiner sets his weary eyes on me.

"You will tell me if there's any progress, right?"

He stares at me for what feels like an eternity. Finally he answers, glancing back at my mosaic. "Of course I will."

After I watch him leave I hopelessly sigh. "*Siiiiigh*"

I sit myself on the floor, still eyeing the door, then my feet. _That went… Well?_ I swivel my feet._ Yeah. I still can't cast, but I'm learning why. And him and I. We talk now. We actually talk. Not small talk._ I flatten my hands on my thighs and rub them. _What is this feeling?_ I suck in my breath. There is a light, airy, flittering feeling inside me. I feel giddy. _A few minutes ago, I was overcome with dread, but now I feel… Safe? And happy? Maybe, I did something good. _

Today is Friday, tomorrow I'll receive a much-needed day off because he has detention to give. I'm heading out the door when I find Professor Grabiner standing in the doorway, blocking me. "Oh! Professor."

"We shall not be engaging in the usual exercise. Instead, you will accompany me to Petunia's office."

It's a short walk and she welcomes us in her usual, shining manner. "Ah. There's my two lovebirds! Come on in, come in darlings."

I literally hear Professor Grabiner hold back a gag in his throat.

"Are you hungry, thirsty? I could conjure something up for you two if you'd like."

He and I immediately look to one another, both unsure.

"Ooooh! How lovely. You're already on the same page!" She squeals and claps in giddy approval, making us both even more unsettled.

"I like tea and muffins as much as the next person, but… No more!" I subtly whisper to him in a voice so small maybe The Headmistress won't notice.

He catches on quickly. "That will not be necessary Petunia, I will tend to that."

"How romantic! Which restaurant do you have in mind? I know of an adorable little salad bar in town."

I look to him, baffled.

I see him look as baffled as I am, then hide it in a quick instant. "Not necessarily-"

"Well then what _did_ you have in mind? Surely you don't plan on making Lumie eat in the cafeteria? She's on vacation! And I'm sure she's tired of eating school food, it isn't very fair to her."

Grabiner clears his throat, an agitated expression imbedded into his features. "Once again, you have no reason for concern."

She lifts her chin up to him. "Good. I hope you two have an enchanting morning."

She winks to me, and I flinch slightly, flashing her back a nervous smile.

"Petunia, need I remind you that it was upon your request Lumina and I arrive here. I would like to believe it involves more than discussing what we shall be having for breakfast."

She smiles triumphantly, aware that he did not deny the idea of taking me out. "Why, I want a progress report of course."

Without wasting a millisecond, Grabiner summons a stack of papers, he shuffles through them and then places them on top of her desk. "There you have it."

The Headmistress looks amused. "Hieronymous, I'm shocked. Usually you have nothing but compliments to say about your wife. What could these papers have written on them that you couldn't tell me yourself?" She begins to pace and emphasize her words with hand gestures. "I mean, I'm used to hearing about how _astounding_ she is, and how much _perseverance_ and _determination_ she possesses. The _conundrums_ that surround Lumina! The air of _mystery_ she emits, and her suprising amount of _wit_ and _grace. _Oh, how much _respect_ you have for her, how much you _admire_ her _inner strength_ to control such dangerous magic." She ends her sentence with an innocent giggle.

I feel my entire body go numb, my face especially tight, unable to form any expression. The only pleasant sensation is the rising heat in my cheeks, but, it's a sensation I could really do without right now. _That's what he says about me? I-I almost can't believe it._

Professor Grabiner looks positively mortified, his face sinks in and his eyes portray panic. Without another word, he snatches me by the wrist and I'm nearly carried out of the room. The door is hastily slammed shut, and still clinging to my wrist he drags me down the hall and to his chambers. That door is slammed rather loudly, and with a great toss into the center of the room, I am released.

I wince and rub my wrist. "Professor-"

"That meddlesome, troublesome, worrisome, nag!"

_WOAH._

He's huffing and puffing now.

"Um. Professor-"

"And YOU! Did you not have any input at all? Or were you too preoccupied observing the performance?!"

"PROFESSOR-"

"Not another word!"

_He's such a whiny little boy!_ "Professor _please_-"

"And just what do you have to say for yourself?!"

"**Stop** **overreacting!**" I shout.

He freezes in place.

"Phew. Alright. I'm confused as to what just happened in there, but you know what? I don't care. And you are **NOT** finding a way to blame me for this." I point a condescending finger at him. Before he can go on another tirade, I continue. "Okay, listen. Are you listening? I. Don't. Know. What's. Going. On. I thought we were going to be training today, but you said we're not. I thought The Headmistress wanted something, but apparently she didn't. I thought I was going to eat breakfast in the cafeteria, but am I?"

He stands there, refusing to give me eye contact. "*Sigh* Petunia requested that I bring you to her office to undergo questioning concerning Damien Ramsey. In terms of your progress reports, she and I usually engage in _private_ discussions, which are not so private at this current time."

_That explains why your face is so red._ I toss my hair back and place my hands on my hips. "That's why you ran away? It wasn't that big of a deal. She didn't reveal anything terrible."

"Not in your eyes." He says as he closes his own.

I pause. "Did she just pressure you into taking me out on a date?"

This wakes him up. "Do not flatter yourself. We are not going out on such an excursion. She merely recommended that I allow you time out of the academy walls as it is unjust for you to undergo the same restraints as the failing lot who are taking summer courses."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Sure. That's why she called us lovebirds and had a 'romantic' destination to recommend."

"Are we done here? I would much rather like to get this over with. As soon as possible, I might add."

I shrug my shoulders, ignoring the happiness rising up my throat. I gesture to the door. "Lead on, Professor. I don't know the area. What did _you_ have in mind?"

He clicks his tongue, and once again takes my wrists a bit harshly. Before I can protest I feel the sensation of teleportation.

I find myself standing at the mall's entrance. Only one thought comes to mind: _Oh my God, **BOOKS!** _Then I remember that the Glen is here, and that's probably where we're going.

I'm rushed over to the false wall where the restaurant is hidden. As I'm being dragged along, I look over myself. My hair is in a sloppy bun, I'm in a red tee with black cargos and sneakers. _Not the outfit I would choose for my first date._ _Of course, it's not like I have a choice. When was the last time I had that, I wonder?_

_At least he's not in his teacher's garb, but in his usual slacks, shoes and dress shirt, with a flat cap, all dull shades of white and brown._

_Why am I so concerned with looks right now anyway? Why do I care? That's not me._

_ Because you wanted to look pretty for him._

_What? No way. I'm not the type who cares about that._

_Yes you are, you just never had someone to be pretty for until now._

_Oh, shut up Lumie! This is not a date._

_But you wish it was._

_ Quiet you!_

I'm snapped back from my thoughts as we faze through the wall.

"Not quite what you were expecting?" He states sarcastically.

After passing the invisibility barriers, I was ready for anything, but this place could be any number of restaurants I've eaten at. The only obvious difference is the customers. There are several people here with wings. A small figure at one of the tables that looks like a cross between a bird and a goblin. And across the way, I see Jacob sitting with two older men, one of whose hair is apparently on fire! Or rather, his hair _is_ the fire! _Could those be his fathers?_

"It is simpler to rely on standard suppliers and build something in keeping with this world. It allows the proprietors of the Glen to save their magickal energy for the food preparation. In the Otherworld there are no such limits, you can eat off of crystal platters in a floating palace." He says while looking my way.

"What is Jacob doing here?"

"It is mere circumstance. The boy does not live far from the academy, and during the summer students are allowed to visit their layabout friends to assist in study. For either of those reasons he could be sitting here with his fathers today."

_Huh. I wonder if Minnie is tutoring summer school students. He could be here for her._

"Let us acquire a table."

As we walk over a great distance from the familiar face,_ I bet he doesn't want us to be seen,_ I wonder aloud. "Why did The Headmistress upset you so much? I thought you'd be used to her outbursts by now. She loves to embarrass people after all."

He scoffs. "I was unprepared for such exaggeration. She intends to make me out for a fool."

_Well she succeeded by the way you reacted. Exaggeration huh? I knew it was too good to be true. He probably said some boring stuff, like 'She possess large quantities of mana.' Or 'Her magick is controlled more by cognitive thought that subconscious instinct, it is most perplexing.' Blah, blah, blah._

"Were you not disturbed?" He asks.

"I liked what I heard." I admit.

He gruffs in dismay.

"Would you please tell me a bit about the Otherworld?" I ask, hungry for knowledge.

"Think of it like fairyland. It is a wondrous place, but it has its dangers. It is where magickal creatures hail from, elves, dragons- all sources of myths and legends."

We sit at a booth, and I look around for a menu without seeing one. The Professor takes a narrow cylinder from a vase at the center of the table, unrolls it, and hands it to me. It's a scroll. I look over the listings, but I have no idea what most of them are. They're not even all in the same language, as far as I can tell.

He cracks a smile at my distress. "Do you require me to order for you?"

I opt to let him order. When the long-eared waiter arrives, he rattles off a series of syllables I do not understand, then eyes me. A few minutes later, the appetizers arrive. Grabiner receives a set of tiny eggs inside a nest of leaves, and I have… A thin, pale-brown tube filled with cream, like some sort of jelly roll. "What is this?" I ask.

"An amiuzon. Take a bite- a small one."

I nibble at the end, it tastes like an ordinary cake. "Is it custom to have dessert first?" I joke.

"Take another bite." He orders.

I nibble again, and my eyes go wide. It tastes like biting into a packet of sweet-and-sour sauce!

He smiles. "Keep going."

Another bite, but this one I nearly spit out. _Vinegar! Yuck!_ I struggle to swallow and-

"If you did not enjoy that one. _Do not_ laugh."

So I screw my face up a little, hold back the giggle and ask "Why not?"

"The idea is to 'amuse the mouth'. The flavor will keep shifting until you laugh, and if you do so, it will remain that way."

_How… Magical!_ I don't want to miss out on the effect, so I keep a straight face while I finish my amiuzon. It ends with a taste of fried vegetables. A waitress comes by to clear the appetizer plates, and we wait for the main course. I watch him tap his spoon against the tiny eggs, cracking the shells slightly. He doesn't remove the shell completely, instead, he leaves an opening on the top. Steam wafts from the egg, plus a delicious savory, scent. He uses the spoon to stir the insides before picking them up between two fingers and drinking the eggy liquids. I watch him chew slightly before swallowing, so the egg must not be completely runny. Noticing my fascination, he offers an egg to me. I hesitate, but gingerly pluck the egg from his hand and mirror his every move.

The warm, eggy, salty, and oddly spicy concoction melts in my mouth. The center is soft and chewy, while the rest of it is soup-like. Not at all raw.

I can't help but let out a satisfied "Mmmm."

Professor Grabiner watches me, satisfied. We sit in silence for a few minutes, and he finishes his nest of eggs. A waitress comes by and takes our plates, offering us our menus for the main course.

I lift myself from the table to peek at what he is about to order. He spots me, raises an eyebrow and turns his head to me. He sits back and slides the scroll in my direction across the table. I stay firm, unintimidated. Trying to look like I know what I'm doing, I stab an entry on the scroll and show it to the winged waitress, who nods. Grabiner on the other hand, rattles off a quick string of syllables that mean nothing to me.

He catches my expression and smiles. "My brave little Horse."

I hop back in surprise, unbelieving of the words that just escaped his mouth. _Did he just coo me?!_

The entrees arrive. The Professor receives a fillet of fish with a side of greens that I've never seen before. The fish is laid atop a bed of golden leaves, and the fish itself is cooked to a nice brown.

I have a plate of rainbow colored-greens, under very thin ham over slices of orange fruit. Cantaloupe, I think. I openly frown.

"Oh, did someone's bravery land them in hot water?" He teases.

"This time, you are right."

He's amazed that I did not accept the verbal challenge.

Usually I would, but this a battle I could never win. I remove the ham slices and place them to the side of my plate. I also thinly slice the top layer of cantaloupe off that touched the ham. I instead top it with the greens and begin eating. It is cantaloupe, like I expected, but the greens are bitter on the bottom, then as I work my way up they become sour. Paired with the sweetness of the fruit it's really tasty.

Professor Grabiner eats the ham that has been isolated from everything else on the plate with the thin cuts of fruit. He tells me that they are a salty, sweet pairing, and that I am missing out on a pleasant culinary experience.

"So… Um. What's England like?"

"Excuse me?" Grabiner responds, duly annoyed.

"You're from there, aren't you? It's the accent that made me assume, I mean you had to pick it up from somewhere. That and your father's letter from last year. I've never been out of the country. So I was wondering."

"It rains frequently. And the sheep have four legs rather than two."

_Well did you know in South America the **asses** have four legs compared to their two-legged European counterparts? _

"Do you ever get homesick?"

"I _do_ get sick of certain things, however I do not experience homesickness. And I especially grow sick of _certain people._"

_ Fine, no more talking then._

We finish off our meal with refreshing ginger tea and the familiar sugar-glass strawberries.

"The dessert is a plate provided to everyone _gratuit_, even if you only came for coffee. It is part of the magickal tradition of hospitality. No guest should go without."

"Is this practiced in every magickal restaurant?"

"Indeed."

"What are the strawberries made out of? At first, I thought it may be hardened marzipan."

He proceeds to eat one. "No. They are blown sugar-glass. But be careful, they are fragile. Put one in your mouth and suck it gently."

I blush as he watches me eat my strawberry.

"It is filled with strawberry juice, which provides energy. The sugar does not dissolve until it meets the heat and moisture of your tongue. That is due to magick of course. A simple spell, not a complex culinary technique."

_I think he doesn't want me to be too impressed by the berries._ We head out of the restaurant together, quietly. A teleport later and we're back at the academy gates.

_That was actually a great meal, and… Wasn't a bad time with him. I do wish we could have talked a bit more, other than the occasional jest. Throughout the entire experience he's been nothing but a gentleman. Albeit- a rude gentleman, if that's possible. Not a sign of anything more._

"Now what?" I ask him.

"We return to Petunia. You still have questions to answer and I have information I must collect. Hopefully by now, her swooning pheromones will have relaxed."

_You do not like the woman, do you?_

We walk back into the academy, through the courtyard and I spot the beady eyes of many hidden fae. Professor Grabiner does not seem to notice. As he strides down the halls a twinge of annoyance pricks me in the back of my mind. _Does he not have any connection to the natural forces at all? I see dead people in plain sight, I talk to brownies and play with faeries. This guy can't even manage a 'hello' to a manus that is contracted into indentured servitude to his family line. Where is he anyway? I don't even feel him watching me anymore._ I look up, my eyes glued to his swishing hair for any glimpse of curved ear tips. _I'm sure the elven culture is heavily centered around oneness with nature and the various realms. So how could he not sense the brownies living here for decades? Some elf he is._

Propriety first, as is customary, he knocks.

She sings for us to come in. "Ahhh. How was your date, my fluttering doves?"

I have to bite my bottom lip and quirk my mouth to hide the emerging smile. That does not stifle my giggle very well, to Grabiner's notice.

Grabiner remains stoic, if not a bit angry. _I wonder if he has any gray hairs._

"Oh relax, Hieronymous. It's not good for your health if you're so rigid all the time."

This does not make him any better.

"Oh, hush up, before you speak. Sit down now, both of you. We'll get straight to business."

I bend to sit in my chair, and a thought strikes. _Why didn't he backlash to her that it wasn't a date?_

"Hello again Lumie." She chippers.

"Hi." I answer quietly.

"I am sorry about your husband, trust me, I've known him for quite some time now, and he-"

"I believe you said we would 'get straight to business.'" He raises his voice over hers.

"Hmph. I did. *Ahe-hem!* So, I've been informed that you had a pocket knife that belonged to Damien, yes?"

"Yes. I gave it to the professor."

"Mhm. And it is now in my possession. I just wanted you to know that you were right, it does possess small traces of memory. It was his, and it was something he was very fond of it."

"So it possesses sentimental value?!"

"Yes, Lumie, yes! I'm so proud of you. With this, we may be able to track him. However, the memory is quite old, probably from his childhood years, and the knife has lost most of its magic."

"The knife was enchanted?" I ask, confused. _I didn't sense anything from it._

"Allow me to explain." Grabiner intrudes. "Objects associated with a very strong emotion can retain tiny traces of magickal energy, if those emotions emitted from a wizard. But over time, if the object is left to neglect or is overused, the magick may either wear thin or run out."

"Wait, doesn't that mean my wands and augments will eventually lose their power?"

"They will, unless you form a bond with them. But you must know how they work in order to understand. Augments differ from catalysts in which they are not tools to project mana through. Augments strengthen the wizard's own casting capabilities by surging excess mana into them. Augments are magickal items, fashioned into wearable accessories or molded onto ever day items, and the augment holds a presumed amount of mana within it. That mana can be concentrated towards a specific color of magick when a constraining rune is engraved into the charm that keeps the augment in place."

"So, what you're saying is, augments make wizards stronger because they hold mana inside of them, and the wizard absorbs it. Runes on the augment's charm tell the mana which magick it should boost."

"Precisely." He says with an approving nod.

"Does that mean, wizards can't use augments without their wands?"

"No, they cannot. Augments are not catalysts, they store mana, but they cannot project mana to form a spell. The mana is transferred to the wizard, who uses their catalyst to control the mana surging into them."

"Oh."

"Yes, I am afraid your ability to use augments does not prove any progress with controlled-casting."

"And I already know how catalysts work. They take the mana and turn it into magick. But how can they do that?"

"If I may?" Potsdam intervenes. "Wands, staves and anything really a wizard uses to do magic is more than an enchanted object. These are very special things, Lumie. In order to create magic, they have to touch your soul. Anything can absorb mana, but only the soul can control it. That's why you need to form a bond with your catalyst, a connection. Catalysts have cores to them. They are made from mystical materials that affinitize with the soul."

"Do you mean like unicorn horns and dragon hearts?"

"Ohhh, precisely Lumie! You are such a smart cookie!"

Grabiner looks smug. "I admit, I am surprised you are aware of such knowledge."

_That's because I read Harry Potter._ Blushing, I continue on. "Does that also mean that wands are made from sacred woods and metals? Like elder, ash and orichalcum?"

"Yes, yes! That's exactly what it means. Those mystical materials can control magic. That's why we make wands out of them!" She cheers in joy.

"Uh. So how do you bond with them? How can you keep them from running dry?"

"It is a simple method. Considering that augments are pre-set with a certain amount of mana due to the enchanted materials they are composed of, all one would have to do is refill the augment with more mana. Whether it be pouring one's own mana into the object or replacing the augment itself, is up to the wizard."

"And wands?"

"Wands and other catalysts are a bit more complex. They do not necessarily run out of mana, but they can lose the ability to channel it. That is the situation where a bond becomes necessary. Bonding is the process where a wizard forms a spiritual connection with their catalyst. Your grandfather is one such example." Grabiner explains.

"Papa?"

"He and his sword are inseparable. They have already bonded. The mystical composition of his walking cane has synthesized with the mana flowing from his soul. It is well-known that if anyone would dare try to take the cane from him, it would strike back with violent force. Foes have perished from merely touching your grandfather's catalyst."

Potsdam eagerly chimes in. "Once you have bonded with your catalyst, your magic will increase tenfold. Not only that, but the object will even adapt personality traits of yours."

"Like an evolving weapon?"

"Are you sure you're wildseed Lumie?" Potsdam teases.

"P-positive!" I stutter. _I just play a lot of video games…_

"Anyway, yes. Although not all catalysts take the forms of weapons. It really has to be an item you cherish. They can range from wands to staves, to real weapons like swords and lances or even a book! In other parts of the world, it is more common to carry a sash or ribbon around than a wand. And wands themselves don't necessarily have to be wooden sticks, they can even be paintbrushes if you so wish."

Grabiner brings us down from cloud nine. "However, you should stray away from unrealistic whims. You would not be able to successfully create a catalyst out of unconventional objects, like for instance, a chair. Catalysts must not only be composed of magickal ingredients, but take a form that can channel and project spells. Hence the popularity with choices of weaponry and common tools."

"Yes. I understand."

He approves. In his weird, grumpy way.

"But um. Do they really come to life? Do they actually change once you've bonded with them?"

"Indeed. The size, shape, color and even style of the object will morph to your inherit personality. And the more adept wizard you become, the deadlier your bonded catalyst will result in."

"And you two think that's what I need to do in order to properly wield a catalyst? I need to bond."

They look at each other, and back to me. "Yes." They say at the same time.

"It is an extreme option, I admit." Grabiner sniffs.

"Why?" I ask, worry growing in my voice.

Potsdam answers. "Well, bonding is a slow and arduous process. You have to well… Bond! You and your selected catalyst must suffer and succeed and grow together, then with time, a bond will form."

"How will I know?"

A glimmer forms in her eyes. One that hints at years of personal experience. "Oh. You'll know Lumie. Trust me, you'll know." She bends over her desk to pat my hand.

I stare at it, thinking deeply. "Why haven't I bonded with either of my wands by now?"

They both hesitate, then struggle to find the words. "I think it's because those wands… Well. _They work_ but-"

"They are cheap rubbish." He finishes for her.

I flush.

"To be blunt, they are not good quality. They are more children's toys than respectable wands. However, they are appropriate for students in your age group."

"We mean no disrespect to the shopkeepers! It's just that, he has a point, dear. These are starter wands, perfectly acceptable for the average schoolgirl but…"

"You are no average schoolgirl." Grabiners says with a smirk.

"Your magic is extremely developed, and it may just be too much for the average wand to handle. This happens to some people. Most students graduate to more… Age appropriate catalysts over the span of time, until they bond with the right one."

I perk up. "So I'm not alone in this? Other wizards struggle with their wands too?"

She speaks too soon. "No. You're still alone. I said it was common for wizards to outgrow their current wands, but it's also equally common for wizards to bond early, even with store bought wands. It all depends on the needs of the individual. And once a bond is formed, you should know that the item will change into something more suitable. So the 'cheapness' of it is really only supposed to be temporary."

My hope dims.

Grabiner, looking especially agitated sweeps his arm in front of her and cuts in. "What she means is yes, wizards do not undergo the consistency of breaking and mending their wands repeatedly. Nor do they suffer through the incapability to engage in spell casting. _However… _We figured that if you were unable to bond with your currents wands, perhaps a custom-made catalyst would yield better results."

_In other words, she should've bonded with a wand by now, time for plan-B, this girl has special needs. _"*Sigh*" I sigh rather loudly.

Grabiner almost snarls at Potsdam, who is looking particularly guilty for my dampened mood.

"Could you tell me a bit more about bonding? About how it works? What it's like?" I softly request.

"O-oh of course, dear." She complies. "It's very easy to bond." _Great, it's supposed to be easy?_ "It's as simple as breathing!" _So I'm inept._ "Bonding is very much like friendship. Or maybe even like family if you put it into perspective." _I have trust issues._ "People bond for different reasons, but it has to be a powerful reason, in order for the catalyst to sync with your inner spirit." _I'm a white mage and I can't even get in touch with my inner spirit..._ "Some people bond out of fondness for their catalyst, others bond from strong sentimental value. Like a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation. I've seen wizards bond with their wands in life-or-death situations, where it was strict necessity."_ I've had life or death scenarios and no wand came to my rescue!_ "The reasons are all different and the catalysts are all different. Some people make their own wands, others buy them, some find them, some receive them as gifts and so on. It doesn't really matter, a wand is a wand. And bonding is unique to every wizard."

"So why would introducing a custom-made catalyst make any difference?"

This stops her in her tracks. She looks to the professor. He was expecting this.

"Because as she said, the terms of the bond differ for every wizard. Perhaps you are unable to bond with your wands because you require something more intimate."

"It doesn't hurt to try." Potsdam admits with a shrug of her shoulders. She claps her hands together. "O-K! So that's the plan then. Now that we've gotten that out of the way. I need to talk to you about a certain Damien Ramsey." She adjusts herself in her seat, to make herself appear more in charge. "Honey, Hieronymous here has told me that Damien gave you a courting gift."

I shrink in my seat, guilt rising up my esophagus. "Are all flower stones courting gifts? Like some sort of custom? Did I make a horrible mistake and break magickal tradition?"

She laughs. "No honey, no. Flower stones are actually pretty common game pieces. They are similar to chess pawns by our standards. Hieronymous may have hinted it was a courting gift based on the behavioral description you gave him on the time you spent with Damien. Hieronymous?"

"The behaviors you described seemed that of an obsessive nature. Whatever Mr. Ramsey had in mind for you, did not happen. Therefore his behavior changed from calculative to reckless."

"Explain." I order, feeling my guard build up.

"When the two of you first met at the Initiation Ceremony, he played to the façade. Mr. Ramsey is one to flaunt his exotic features and he singled you out because you were a seemingly harmless wildseed girl. I am sure he thought his strange and unique appearance would dazzle you in some way. That is why he did not chose another wildseed girl, for instance Miss Middleton."

"Wait, I don't get it. He picked me because he knew I didn't mind the way he looked?"

"Precisely."

"You're different Lumie. You may be wildseed, but you… You're not afraid of what is new, like the others."

"In other words, you are intrigued by the magickal world and you embrace it. While most wildseed students struggle to cope with the vast differences between our societies. It is that fascination that Mr. Ramsey sought to take due advantage of."

"He knew he had an edge, Lumie, like with all the others. I've seen it countless times. He'll spring up on some innocent wildseed girl and woo her with his charms. He's had many, many, many girlfriends."

"From there on out he proceeded to challenge you, testing out methods of manipulation. You did not respond to fear or force, and you did not react to romance, something that has never happened to him before, I'm sure. So he responded the only way he could, with pity."

"The idea was, since you did not fear him or love him, he could not control you. And so the best way to get you to play to his whims was to make you feel sorry for him. He told you all those stories about how he's been bullied and he's so different and he feels all alone." Potsdam pouts.

"Headmistress?"

"Oh Lumie, I've heard these stories a thousand times! You have no idea how many girls I've had to be a shoulder to cry on to. And it's positively shameful, they all tell me the same things! Some girls fell for his flirting and teasing, others talked about how they were lavished with gifts and compliments. And more have told me that they were afraid of him and that's why they did what he wanted. But they all were convinced that he loved them in the end. They all thought they had his heart. That he was just a sad, and misunderstood boy."

"That's… That's sick." I spit.

"It is, it's truly sickening!" Potsdam stomps her foot. "He toys with people's hearts. I've been suspecting this for quite some time. And as much as I hate it, I cannot expel him for merely being a Casanova. Once it became a matter of assault however, I had my chance. My hunch was right."

"What hunch?"

"He's a demon, Lumie."

"What?! He told me he was a changeling!"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure he did. Tell me something I don't know." She looks me straight in the eye. "He is a cambian, Lumie. A half-demon, half-human hybrid."

"And expelling him would make you look racist." I realize.

She hangs her head. "Yes dear. I gave him his chance. If he wanted to be naughty boy, so be it. But I will not tolerate him hurting my students any longer!"

"If I may continue…" We let him. "She is correct. But what breed of demon he is, we are unsure of."

_So you have no idea how dangerous he is._

"His infatuation with young girls leads me to believe that he may be an incubus. Dark Folk have a special taste for young females."

"Because most of them are virgins, or because they're naïve and easy to manipulate?"

"Presumably both." He answers. "Whatever the case may be, it is a serious matter. Your personal experience is one that cannot be denied. He attempted to intimidate you, but that was quickly brushed aside. He attempted to woo you in the usual manner, but you would not fall for his charms. He even attempted to appear as a hero to you, 'rescuing' you from my delivered punishments with the letter incident. And 'rescuing' you from your confrontation with Ms. Kirsch. You did not even yield to his pity-party. You did not feel so overcome with sympathy that you would demean yourself to his levels and find yourself catering to his every request." He looks as if those words left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I'm just so happy you weren't another one." Potsdam sighs with a hand to her chest.

"Why would I fall for that?" I say, annoyed.

They both look to me.

"You two make it sound like he's some **criminal mastermind** and has this _amazing_ way with women. But come on! He was just another bully. It was so obvious that he was fake. I mean, he went from friendly, to hostile, to apologetic, to jealous and furious all over again. The guy would scream in my face for no reason! And so what if he secretly bought me a pie or made me a flower of out of rock? So what about the love letter or Angela? Those situations were his fault to begin with, there was nothing to 'rescue' me from. I mean, I barely even talked to the guy! I saw him whenever I ran into him, and yeah he always had this sob story when that happened, but _that's_ what I'm supposed to be attracted to? I thought there was a greater chance of him being **bipolar** than him being a demon!" _Are these two serious?_ I fold my arms, prickling anger causing goosebumps to raise on my skin.

"Hm. You have a point." Potsdam admits. "Yes, when you put it that way, it is rather odd. No girl would want to date someone like that." She says again.

"Exactly." I huff.

"But your situation is atypical." Grabiner reminds.

"Atypical?"

"Correct. What we are pointing out to you is that this is not custom to circumstance. We do no not understand why someone practiced in his ways would act so sparratic and spoil any chance of a convincing act."

"He was different around you. With the other girls, he had a plan. He had a plan and sought it out to the end until either he got what he wanted or failed. Then he would move on to the next one. He had a different personality set up for whatever girl he was after." Potsdam explains for me.

"Many boys his age display the same qualities." Grabiner adds.

"So it wasn't unusual that he was a jerk and a pervert. You couldn't really pin anything on him."

"But then you came along." He says suddenly.

Potsdam points a finger to my nose. "Yes, you came along and he changed. Almost as if… He didn't know what to do. He didn't know your weakness. Whatever could that be Hieronymous?" She looks at him slyly.

"Why would I know that?!" He snaps.

She answers with a grin and a slide of her eyes between us.

"Excuse me?!"

"I'm only teasing." She waves him off before he blows up. "Well, that's what it is. I can only see that he would bother putting so much effort into pursuing you because that was his way of courting."

I raise my hand. "Why does any of this matter? In the end, I wasn't the one that got attacked."

"It matters because he got away."

"You think he may come after me?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think so. But it doesn't hurt to be cautious. He really has no reason to. But any input on your side can help us determine his next move."

"Headmistress, how did he get away?"

She says nothing.

"Headmistress Potsdam?"

She glances back at me, but still remains silent.

"Potsdam, please?"

No answer, a raised eyebrow, but no answer.

"She is asking you a question!" Grabiner demands.

She's not budging. _Why would she-? OH._ "Petunia, how did Damien escape?"

She opens up at last. "I had to save the boy."

Grabiner looks baffled.

"Save him from what?"

She sighs. A genuine sigh of sadness, which an emotion I don't think I've ever seen from her. "The boy claimed they were romantically involved." _So he had a boyfriend and still hit on me?_ "What really happened that night was this:" She readies herself.

"Damien had agreed to take the boy out on a private, moonlight date at the lagoon. A clear violation of academy conduct, but… It played to his favor. The two were out of the range of my protective wards."

"How could you not tell that the wards had been breached?" She saddens.

"Apparently, Damien knows far more magic than what is taught in the academy."

I soften, aware she must feel heavily responsible for the incident.

"The two had been dating for a fair amount of time, so a trust between the two had already been established." _She's hinting to me that everything she's telling me up to a certain point was consentual._ "It is there that Damien began to engage in more, private things."_ So they were messing around._ "What the boy didn't know was that the powerful magic circle they were sitting in was not for his protection, but his confinement, including the disabling of his own magic."

When she talks, there are tones of disgust laden in her voice.

"Damien told the boy that in order to make their union official, the boy had to offer up his body and soul. He told the boy that he loved him, and that he needed his love for all eternity. He convinced the boy that they were engaging in an old magical mating ceremony. That all serious couples invested themselves in this, and that in due time they would be married if they formed the connection. Our poor boy was madly in love with him, so he consented. And the two proceeded to carry out the ritual. But as you've probably suspected, that was a lie. It was a sacrificial ritual."

I feel my entire body go rigid.

"Ritual sacrifice of one's entire existence. His heart, mind, body and even his soul, which includes his magic, would all be transferred to Damien. The boy was asked to draw his own blood willingly, and that is when he began to have second thoughts. He was curious as to why Damien himself was not practicing the ritual rites. He tried to convince the boy that being what he was, a demon-prince, made the rites unnecessary."

I cut it in. "He told the boy he was a demon-_prince_?"

She bites her lip. "Yes. As ridiculous as it sounds you have to put it in the perspective of a fifteen year-old wildseed boy who has never met a demon before and also happens to be deeply infatuated with that person. That was his partner, and loving his partner, he believed he would mean no harm to him. How very wrong he was." She takes a breath. "He refused to draw blood. That is, he was willing to do it, but only if Damien participated as well. He wanted Damien to be as much his property and he was going to be Damien's."

_I kinda get his way of thinking, even though as soon as I hear the words 'offer your soul' I'm pretty much through with the subject._

"This led to an argument between the two, which Damien thought he could mend through force. He actively tried to seduce the boy, as he was doing before, but the boy was not pleased. Pleasure became replaced with fear, and the boy lashed out. However without his magic, he was utterly defenseless. Damien overpowered him and proceeded."

I feel the need to cross my legs.

"At this time, I had already sensed my wards had been breached. Hieronymous and I were still being led on false trails. He sent his manus off the trails to search for the boy by sky. We did find him, and just in time. The poor boy was so hurt and scared. He was screaming for help, Damien did not bother to gag him because he thought no one would be able to hear him from their distance. When we were given the signal, I was much closer to the location than Hieronymous, not wanting to waste a second, I left without him. Once I laid my eyes on the nasty sight, I lost myself." She fiddles with her large ring. "I was in such a rage, I fully intended to kill the boy. I called upon flaming swords, not my usual method of magic, and I was going to hack him into itty bitty pieces!" She shouts.

_Wait… So **that** portion of the rumors were right?! Good grief!_

"However, Damien used the boy as a human shield, and I had to divert my spell. He used this precious moment to thrust the boy away and flee into the night. Hieronymous arrived at that precise second and by then it was too late. We needed to tend to our student, he was badly injured and was going into hysterics. We have not seen or heard of Damien since."

"Do you understand the severity of our situation?"

"Without a doubt." I answer calmly, closing my eyes.

"It isn't so much our situation anymore, he's a wanted criminal now. The authorative powers are pursuing him as we speak and I've changed the school wards to include cambians. This is a task for the High Court, but we intend to help in whatever way we can. And this blade will be delivered to the Spymaster team first thing in the morning, along with a detailed report of your analysis on Damien Ramsey's behavioral aesthetic."

"Do you need anything else?"

She smiles again, finally, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her being serious for so long. "No dearie, you've done enough. Don't worry, I have faith we'll find him. The boy is safe, Damien has a bounty on his head and can never return. We may resume life as normal."

As quickly as she said it, we are dismissed. I walk alongside the professor feeling solemn. "Did you gather enough useful information?"

"Only from your input. The rest I have heard before. She is correct however, the matter is out of our hands, and I for one, prefer it that way."

_Me too._


	21. Chapter 21

The next week is nothing out of the ordinary. More training, the occasional request for raw magick, Wenge pulls another prank on me, e thought it would be funny to scribble graffiti all over my dorm door. Apparently I'm a "Wanker". I can only be thankful for the writing being inside my room, not outside. Which makes me more worried than relaxed.

The graffiti insult "Teacher's Wench" appear in the bathroom mirror as I brush my teeth, or "Dumb Broad" on the shower wall as I bathe. Another in my bowl of alphabet cereal. "Don't ignore me you hag!"

I wasn't even mad, I merely nodded my head and shrugged it off. What I want to know is where did e find the apostrophe for "Don't" and the exclamation mark to end the sentence?

It's an effective method however. As much as I want to hunt em down and prank em back, I know retaliation only fuels further retaliation. Besides, I've made enough of a fool of myself for es amusement already.

The idling by and training and pranks continue.

I make tea time with Professor Grabiner and we engage in getting to know ourselves a little more. Nothing juicy, just that we explore our personalities in greater detail.

_He has his skills and I have mine. My absolute favorite thing to do is craft. Yeah, I like sports, and video games, and sometimes I enjoy a good read. But who doesn't? The rest of the things I do are just generic activities that any not-hard-to-please-person would like. Other than that, I don't have any specific_ _hobbies._ _During one special talk over Darjeeling I realized that neither of us share a common interest other than reading._

_He sketches and paints. He revealed that he writes poetry. I haven't read any of his poems, and I've asked but he refused. It's just based on the letters I've received I can deduce he's an excellent writer. _

_ I care deeply about nature, which means I love being outside while he prefers the indoors. He lives for reading! He writes a lot too, he keeps a journal. A JOURNAL! I can barely bring myself to write in my Iris Academy Diary._

_I'm also very active because I enjoy exercise. I know how to ride a bike, ice skate and roller blade. And of course I can do crazy flips, spins, jumps and somersaults. _

_But he's one hell of a dancer and fighter so that's probably how he stays in shape. _

_I wouldn't say I'm a people person, but I enjoy a social life. I maintain a small circle. _

_He's a complete loner. The Headmistress and myself? Just may be his only friends. ...Actually, I might not even be his friend._

_I've learned about his archery, fencing, sailing and horseback riding. He also had to take ballroom dancing and multiple language classes! Which is how he speaks English, Spanish, French, Italian, Latin and Elven-JEEZ! He even knows sign-language, morse-code, and brail. _

_I speak two languages. Two! And I thought I was the sheezy. _

_He plays the violin, piano, and he decided on his own accord to practice the flute. He had to take chorus, refine his penmanship? And he grudgingly had to take etiquette courses all the way into adulthood. Yuck. Apparently his father wanted a "model citizen" rather than a son. I mean, this guy can do anything!_

Being the silly, young schoolgirl that I am, I think something really cheesy:

_We complete each other._

_It may be too early to assume that, but... I'm generally nice and he's generally mean. I'm compassionate and empathetic- though some people like Ell beg to differ. And he's stoic and cold. I like having friends and he likes studying. He sings and dances and plays all of these instruments the proper way. While I jump and spin and flail my arms about while screeching at the top of my lungs._

_He can paint a mountainside or riverbank or sketch a realistic replica of someone's face. _

_At best, I manage to make Ginia look like Mr. Potato Head. _

_On the other hand, I can sew and knit and sculpt. I also cook and clean. He doesn't bother to dirty himself with such things. _

_Even the way we fight is parallel. Both physically and verbally! In an argument, he'll be mocking yet subtle, never bringing himself to resort to obvious vulgarities. I tell it as it is. If you're an asshole, **you're an asshole.**_

_In battle, he dives, lunges and parries, while I swing my fists and kick my feet, unafraid to use tooth and nail._

Two more weeks have passed and now I know he's better than me in almost every way. _Does wonders for my self-esteem I tell you._

_We're so opposite it's almost polar. If it weren't for our common interest, I don't know how we would stand each other._

_All of this talking is swell and all. But I'm frustrated by the lack of physical contact. I'm DYING for another kiss! __Summer is almost over too. There's less than a month left. The new school year is approaching. Sophomore Year is coming and I'm not ready! I'm not able to use a wand and I'm certainly not any closer to losing my virginity- well, closer in date, but not in mental aptitude._

_ Oh, what do I do? It's Tuesday, tomorrow starts another day of useless training._

I'm mindlessly tapping my pen on a piece of paper while staring out the window. It hits me._ Papa! I can write a letter to Papa!_

"Dear Papa,

Sorry I haven't written to you in so long. But I've been so busy. Let me fill you in on my training situation:

I still cannot use a catalyst. No matter what I do, it seems hopeless. The instructors have come up with a plan that just might work.

We're running out of options. I've used my wands, school wands, ribbons, brushes, blades and even an old hat. Nothing. So the idea is to make me a custom-catalyst; something I could get attached to. Bonding with my weapon is the only thing I haven't tried yet. But what form should it be in? We have yet to decide. Right now we're narrowing it down based on what object I show the best results with. I don't think I'll be returning home in time. So wish me luck. I miss you both.

P.S.- A boy named Damien Ramsey was expelled last year. He was a senior, the one with blue skin and devil wings. It turns out he was a cambian and he attacked a student. Remember Initiation? He is _that_ Damien. I'm not in danger. But I've been told since he escaped capture, he is a wanted criminal now, I handed over a pocket knife he gave to me when we knew each other in hopes of aiding the search.

Love- Lumina"

_I'll get this sent. I have every right to demand my return back home to spend the last month with my family. But truth be told, I don't want to leave Professor Grabiner again. It's selfish and dumb. But I want to stay by his side. I want to improve our relationship. Whatever it is._

With that out of the way, I spend the rest of my day avoiding the slippery floors and shocking doorknobs left behind by Wenge.

I'm walking back to my dorm, bored and ready to go to sleep. When I hear a Scottish accent from behind me. I turn around and look down, and to my shock, e has shown emself! Wenge is standing firm on the floor, hands on hips, head cocked up to me, brows furrowed, with a "menacing" scowl. Es tail flickers back and forth in agitation and es beady eyes are squinted into what I assume is supposed to be an intimidating leer.

But the first thing that goes through my head is: _Awwwwww. E is so cute! _I smile.

"Wut are ye smiling at?!" E demands.

My grin widens. _Cute and sassy!_

"Think yer real smart, duint ye? Brushin me off like doost!" E tip toes.

Now I'm gushing._ I can't believe someone so annoying could be so cute~!_

"Oi! Are ye listenin?!"

_Look at es fuzzy tail and frizzy hair. E looks like a little brown tumbleweed!_

"HEY!"

I snap out of it. "Hm?"

"Hm?! _HM?!_ Quit tunin me out! I'm talkin here!"

"Oh, yes. You were saying?"

"Uggh! I didn't drag meself over here to be taken fer a fool. I'm askin ye- no. I'm ORDERIN YE. How dare ye give me the cold shoolder?"

I shrug.

E twitches in disbelief. "WUT?!"

"You were annoying. So I stopped bothering with you. If you were expecting me to stoop down to your level, you're horribly mistaken. I'm not here for your petty entertainment." I flip my hair and flutter my eyelashes in a cocky manner.

"P-p-p-_petty?!_" E repeats, insulted.

I put my hands on my hips and imitate es stance. "Yes, that's right. Pet-ty. I bet you were just doing it for attention. I mean, gosh, if you wanted to talk to me so _badly, _all you had to do was ask."

"Yer nuthin special! Who are ye to act like The Queen herself?!"

_The Queen huh? So you're from the U.K.? Is Scotland part of the U.K.? It is, isn't it? Though it's gained a fair amount of autonomy..._

"Huh. I'm done wit ye. Shove off!"

I smile triumphantly. "Fine, I'm leaving. Your pranks were lame anyway. Bye Wenge." I continue on to my room, walking slowly. _Three. Two. One._

"LAME?!"

_Gotcha._

E scurries over and climbs up my body to stand on my arm, which I outstretch to give em more room to stand. E screams in my face. "I thought Russet said you were educated aboot brownies! Ye should be grateful I even pranked ye in the first place! Don't ye know a privilege when ye see it?! Rude, little brat!"

I roll my eyes.

"And if ye think I'm lame, I'll just have to kick it up a notch! How would ye like that?"

I burst into giggles.

"Uh. Huh? Wut are ye laughin at?" Wenge says, puzzled.

I scoop em up for a warm hug. "It's okay Wenge, I miss Russet too."

E seizes up in my arms, es face depicting disgust. I don't let go however, I pet em on the head, my fingers running through es fuzzy, buzzcut hair.

"L-let me go!" E shouts, not sounding so sure of emself anymore.

I whisper to em. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings Wenge. I do know how special you are, and I'm honored you took time out of your day to talk to me."

E wiggles in my grasp. "Quit huggin me like yer Petunia! I hate that! I HATE bein treated like a wee babe! Ye wouldn't want me to turn into a _boggart_ would ye?!"

I hold em out. "Being coddled? That's your trigger?"

"*Gasp!* Ohp!" E quickly covers es mouth.

I put em down. "I won't treat you like a baby. That's good to know- and I won't use it against you either."

Wenge looks absolutely livid. "Ye tricky lass!"

I sigh and bend down to kneel beside em. Wenge backs up in hostility. "It's late, I'm tired, I'm going to bed. I know you miss Russet, but _I_ didn't take em away."

This stops Wenge in es tracks.

"Maybe you feel bitter because Russet talks about me a lot, and that we spend so much time together, and now all of a sudden e left with me to go on vacation. But in the end, it's Russet's life. E can do whatever e likes. If you really need to talk to em straight away, I have a letter I need to mail in the morning, and you can feel free to send Russet a message."

Wenge is speechless.

I stand up. "Goodnight Wenge." I bow slightly, and make my leave. From behind me I hear a soft. "_Damn you..._" Followed by the scuttling of little feet.

In the morning I exit my dorm and step on a piece of paper. I peel it off the bottom of my shoe and notice tiny, angry words written onto it. "Tell Russet to come home!" I smile and shake my head. _Yes, I think you're warming up to me at last._

I'm walking to the conference room, unsure of myself. At the door, I sigh._ I don't want to do this today._

I slowly open the door. "Morning." I greet quietly.

"Is there a problem?" Professor Grabiner asks me.

"Where did that come from?" I ask back.

"You sighed at the door. I heard you."

_ Woops._ I look away.

"Tell me." He closes his book and sets it aside on the table.

"I'm not… I just don't feel like doing it today."

"The experiments."

"Yes. I'm not motivated for it anymore." I admit.

"Then we shall not train today."

"T-that's it? I haven't upset you?"

He shakes his head. "I am a teacher, and I know well enough that if a student does not wish to learn, they simply will not, no matter how much you force them."

I shake my hands. "No! Please don't think I'm ungrateful! I'm just feeling discouraged is all! I mean, we do the same things over and over, and with little results."

He stands. "I was not chastising you. I was sympathizing with you."

_Y-you were?_

"Well then, what would you do if we are not going to train, it is after all, the reason you are here. We now have a whole day to spare."

I'm peeved by his answer. "That is **not** why I'm here!" I shout.

He looks unimpressed at my display of emotion.

"I'm here for _you!_"

"Come again?"

"I'm here for us_!_ I'm here, because we have something very important to do. Something we haven't been preparing for. I'll train, but don't you dare prioritize it over my life!"

He suddenly understands my anger. "I-"

"No! Don't say 'I'm sorry.' DO SOMETHING INSTEAD. Please." I pull at my hair and shut my eyes._ What a moron._

"Yes. You are right. I apologize. If you would join me, we may… Work on this."

I look up at him. "Like what?"

He walks towards me. "Would you join me for a walk?"

"A walk." I repeat.

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"No." _I don't want him to think that my mind is in the gutter._

"Then, would you like take a walk with me?" He offers up his hand.

"One condition."

"What would that be?"

"We leave the campus."

He chuckles. "I believe that is fair."

I take his hand. _At last!_ And then we're teleported outside the school walls. I let him go, and I do some much needed stretching and yawn, taking in the fresh morning air.

"I do not wish to stray very far."

"That's fine. I'm only stir crazy."

"I know, and I have been selfish."

I turn to him.

"You should know, I am not blind."

I squint.

"I am aware that you have been the only one to initiate conversation, who makes effort to see the other and ensure contact outside of a work-environment. You have been reminding me that we have a deadline, but not in a manner that feels rushed. You even attempt to lighten the mood during our training sessions. Yet, I have done nothing to progress our predicament."

I nod.

"So today, I plan on taking action, like you have requested."

I feel myself getting happy and excited.

"Let us be off." He turns around and walks down the grassy slope from the school. I walk beside him. Then I feel my heart stop. He takes my hand in his. Not in the usual way. He is not picking me up from a stumble, or offering a link for teleportation. He firmly takes my hand and intertwines his long fingers with my own. I twitch slightly, unsure of what he was doing for a moment, but he does not allow me to wriggle free.

_We've never held hands like this._

"Uh." I look up at him, but he does not retract his hand. He leads me down with him, and I silently pray that my palms won't get too sweaty. Iris Academy is at the very tip of the mountain. But at the top is a plateau, which is a foundation for the academy grounds. Sloping from this plateau are many hills and steep drops, all covered in grass, shrubs, flowers and rock. It's a bumpy hike down, and our hands are held strong to ensure balance.

As I'm hopping and skipping to keep up with gravity's constant tugging, _I can't believe this is happening._ "Ah!" I trip.

"Be careful, do not let go of me." He advises. And he tightens his grip to prevent my fall. I'm facing a steep drop, realizing he just saved me from a nasty accident. He pulls me back up, positions me inside, away from the edge, instead of at the edge and we head towards the left. We reach another high hill and climb it. Grabiner reaches the top first and hoists me up to join him on the top of the hill. We sit there, completely mute, still joined.

My heart is threatening to burst out of my chest, but not because I need to catch my breath. His warm, large hand covers my own, and as we gaze down at the town far below, rocky hills blanketed in wildflowers and sharp rock. I feel him squeeze a little. I jump, and he chuckles at my reaction.

A cool breeze flies past us, lifting the scent of the hills to our nostrils, I inhale it deeply.

"I like this." I break the silence.

"A bit hazardous to admit, but worth the energy." He adds.

Clouds drift lazily overhead, the sun shines bright, breezes occasionally visit to keep us cool, and the smell of wet earth and freshly grown grass makes me sleepy.

"You've done this before I assume?"

"Only alone, I admit. I cannot afford to be a complete shut-in."

I sniff at that.

"It is the truth." He insists. "A wizard's magick will wane if the body is not kept in peak condition."

"That makes sense."

I look down. He still hasn't let go of my hand.

"Are you overheating? We could relocate to a spot with more shade."

"N-no. I'm fine."

He smiles devilishly. "So that is merely a blush spreading across your face."

I back away, but he tugs me closer to him. "Hahahaha!"

_He's- he's laughing?!_ Sure enough he is, a hearty, happy burst of laughter erupts from Grabiner's throat, almost too foreign a sound for my ears to process.

"You really can be quite amusing on occasion." He teases.

_What's gotten into him?!_ "And you're as cruel as ever." I pout.

This doesn't faze him. I clench my fist, involuntarily holding his hand tighter, to which he responds by squeezing back. I hold back a squeal. _Why? Why am I so lame?_ I silently shame myself. _I'm so inexperienced, it's just hand holding right? Why am I so embarrassed?_ A few more minutes of sitting. I exhale, hoping to calm down.

"Lumina."

I zip my head to his attention.

"I am sorry."

"But I already forgave you."

"No. You have not."

"What do you-?"

"I am not apologizing for what we discussed earlier. I am apologizing for last year."

"What happened last year?"

He looks to the distance. "Do you remember our argument on May Day?"

I shrink, _of course I do, it resulted in my first kiss._

"You pointed out a connection between us. One that existed before the marriage."

_Yes, I remember! _

"You were right, though I was too proud to admit it."

I inhale sharply.

"I am going to tell you something- and this is because you have earned my trust and respect."

I say nothing, only wanting to hear him speak.

"The truth is… I find you- I have _always_ found you… Interesting."

_Wait, seriously?! M-me?_

"From the very moment we met, I thought you were peculiar. I walked up to you out of curiosity, as you looked nothing like the crowd and I was drawn to that. It was my fault we had that little mishap, I drew myself too close."

_It was you?_

"But I was both furious and embarrassed and I quickly put you to blame for my mistake. You did not deserve those demerits."

_Okay._

"As I came to familiarize myself with you, I could not shake my burning curiosity and to mask it I was especially hard on you."

_When you were picking on me in class?_

"I found myself even coming to admire you, once I was hinted at your true intelligence. Do you have any idea that you are, in fact, a brilliant young woman?"

_He means this?_

"Never before had I been so enamored with a student. So much, that it frightened me."

_Frightened?! _I sit up straight.

"Surely you must know that you do not look your age. So when I found myself so absorbed with you, I thought myself perverse."

_Oh, God. You must've gone through some serious self-loathing-_ is what I want to say. But my mouth remains shut. Frankly, I'm too dumbstruck to speak.

He shuts his eyes. "So I did my best to avoid forming a connection. I did not wish for even the smallest fraction of friendliness between us, because I could not trust myself to not succumb to greed and desire."

_Greed... Desire... You can't be talking about me._

"But distancing myself from you, did not change my concern for your well-being. I assured that everything I did was fair in conduct, for that would jeopardize both my career and your education if I displayed favoritism, but I did treat you differently from the rest. I wanted you to know that I was watching over you in those exams, hoping that maybe you would be comforted. A ludicrous thought, why would my voice bring you comfort? But still, it was a small hope of mine, that you would find it so."

_I did._

"Then came the Dark Dance Ceremony and I gave in to temptation. A foolish whim, but one mistake I would gladly make again. I could not resist the opportunity to hold you, to feel you, to…"

My eyes widen.

He notices my face and clears his throat. "Then we… Married. Once again I lashed out at you. I blamed you yet again for my mistake. I was an idiot. It was my idiocy that tied an innocent soul like your own to my corrupted vessel. I failed to protect you from myself. I was miserable, but it pained me even more because I had dragged your happiness and freedom down with me."

_You were in so much pain and inner conflict._

"You are aware of the rest…"

"So. When you found out how old I was?"

He sighs. "I was angry, but I was also relieved. I felt like my emotions were finally justified- that I was not this sick creature who held romantic interest in children. But merely a man... Who held feelings for a woman."

"What would you have done… If I wasn't of age?"

"I would have quit my job."

"Just to get away from me?!"

"I thought myself an _abomination._ I was not going to remain employed in an academy if I had truly developed a sexual attraction to an underage student."

**!**

"I-I r-respect _that."_ I stutter, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

His serious expression suddenly goes grave at my change of hue. He grits his teeth and slaps his forehead. "Damn it all!" He curses his folly.

_Y-you're sexually attracted to me?! He admitted it! He's regretting right now, but he wants me in that way._ My face goes hotter than ever before. I feel myself nearly burning.

"I-!" He starts.

"No it's okay… I… I find you very attractive myself..."

He's extremely surprised. "You what? How could someone like you ever-"

"I don't care about how old you are. I think you're handsome. I... Have a confession too…" I can't look at him for this. "I've been hiding the c-crush I have on you."

"…"

"I-I'm not saying this to make you feel better. I-I n-never thought you were ugly, and I don't know exactly when, but I kind of developed a silly teacher's crush on you early in the school year. I knew it was ridiculous, a-and I had _no intention_ of acting on it. I thought you _hated me_ to be honest."

"No... No, I do not hate you." He whispers.

"Thank y-you." I smile nervously at him.

We stare at each other awkwardly. Luckily for me, he salvages the moment. "I have a serious question to ask you."

I nod for him to go ahead.

"When the deadline arrives... Would it be wrong of me to ask you... Not to use the other methods of consummation?"

"You mean... Being put to sleep or having it erased from my memory."

"I do not wish to do either of those things." He admits with hope in his eyes.

"Are you s-sure you want me? We haven't even known each other that long. You... You could have any woman you want."

He takes both of my hands in his. "Which is exactly what I intend to do now."

_Am I dreaming?!_

We lock eyes. "Lumina. Will you see this through with me? Not just as an obligation of our marriage, but perhaps... With fondness? "

I can feel myself beginning to tremble. _He doesn't want me to dread the day we have sex, he wants me to look forward to it._

"Y-yes. Yes, of course! Let's make this work."


End file.
